


A Steve of His Own

by Whendoestheshipsail



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1946 Steve Rogers, 2023 Bucky Barnes, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Steve Rogers, Breeding Kink, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Come play, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Feminization, It's all very emotional, M/M, Masochist Steve Rogers, One Big Happy Family, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Top Bucky Barnes, a Hot Mess, emphasis on hot and mess, happy ending!, i guess it's canon compliant but i'm kind of annoyed to abide by it frankly, only in the beginning when he thinks there's no Bucky, sad Steve Rogers, sad bucky barnes, steve's suicidal ideation, take that endgame, you know how he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/Whendoestheshipsail
Summary: One of my earlier stories is called One More Night and basically has Steve fuck off to the past and run away with the Winter Soldier because Steve is a masochist and Bucky is so damned traumatized that he just doesn't want to hurt Steve the way he wants to be hurt after WS/CW/ etc. This left a Bucky Barnes without a Steve Rogers. Every now and again someone emails me and is like 'What about our Bucky?' and I was like IDK. So, this is the story of how poor post-endgame Bucky gets A Steve of His Own.You don't need to read One More Night. This works on its own and the sex is a lot sweeter than that story. This is an HEA with lots of Endgame healing and a plausible reason for Steve to go back to the past and yet still be Stucky first.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 223
Kudos: 304





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [One More Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760594) by [Whendoestheshipsail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/Whendoestheshipsail). 

Bucky is in his new kitchen, putting the last coat of paint on the wall, when there’s a knock on his front door. He’d gone for a creamy yellow. Kind of reminded him of the farmhouse they were sequestered in, sometime in the summer of ’44. They’d had the doors open for the four whole days they’d been there. Lavender was everywhere, the house smelling fresh and clean. Fig trees had lined the drive up to the massive country house and there’d been a pond they’d all skinny dipped in. Steve had started out modest but had found two squished tadpoles when they got out (which they’d laughed about til the day he fell off the train, actually) and they’d felt almost invigorated to head back out again and…. Well, it’s a nice fucking color, he thinks, forcing himself to stop reminiscing about shit long gone.

He opens the front door and there’s Steve. Which is surprising. He looks good. Well, he looks pale and nervous, he’s even sweating, but he looks rested and …. Well, he looks like he’s been fucked within an inch of his life. Which is just how Stevie liked it.

Bucky smiles because Steve looks at him with something close to fear in his eyes. Fear and regret and like they’re really, really over. His chest is being ripped open with a dull knife but he smiles at Steve because he does want Steve to be happy, and it’s still a relief to see that Steve doesn’t look like he’s about to die from the weight of living. 

“Hey, Buck. We need to talk,” Steve says. Bucky steps back, lets Steve into the house and goes to turn down the music.“Marvin Gaye? Sam got to you, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s good. It was a condition for helping paint the place. You want something to drink? The tour?” Bucky leads the way into the kitchen. “How long were you back there?” he asks.

“Um, just about a year.”

“Huh. Neat trick,” he says. Isn’t he supposed to say something? He gets beer out of the fridge, “You look better,” he says, and not saying ‘sweetheart’ at the end of that sentence, plunges the knife a little deeper.

Steve’s face does a complicated thing when their hands touch as he hands over the beer. Bucky looks around his kitchen. At the color and how it looks now that a few clouds have cut off the sunlight. More of a yellow beige. It’s not bad, but it’s not the summer of 44 color anymore.

Now it looks like…. there was a stone in Italy, this one town on the coast where everything was made of some local rock and it kind of looked like this. He can’t remember what they did there. Why they were there. He wonders if he fucked Steve against a wall. Is that why he remembers it so vividly? Maybe he shot someone’s brains out and it dripped down, exploded wide, a splattering pattern, and that’s why he remembers the color. Contrast.

He has no idea. But, he tries to equate things to memories whenever possible. Like a trick or something. A reminder that he has a brain filled with information. It’s fine. Other memories will take their place. Better memories, he just has to give it time.Bucky isn’t sure he believes that.

“Look, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Are congratulations in order? Is there a Mrs. Steve Rogers?” He’s pretty sure there isn’t a hell of a lot of bitterness in his tone.

“No, of course not. That’s not it. But, I went back and I wanted to save you, before I came back. But, you… you’re different back then. A lot… harder. You have days where you’re you and days where you’re… cold or something. We’re together. I thought I’d just save you.” Steve’s voice breaks. “I _swear_. But, you wouldn’t take no for an answer, you were all mixed up. Maybe that’s not fair. I’ve never been very good at saying no to Bucky Barnes no matter where you’re from.”

Bucky’s therapist tells him that his ability to shut down has kept him alive. That it’s a form of self protection. Too much loss and trauma so it keeps him sane. It’s apparently quite normal. When he shuts down now, he can feel it. There’s a coldness. And he feels tired. Like talking is hard. He pulls out his phone and texts Sam. “Can’t come today. Sorry.” He needs to cancel their plans now, in case he loses a bit of time after this conversation with Steve. He doesn’t break promises if he can help it. No matter how small they are. Jogging and coffee is all it was. Another time.

“Who are you fucking texting? Am I interrupting?” Steve asks, apparently wavering from guilt to anger. That’s Steve. If he can shift something to indignation or rage, he will.

“I don’t remember things from back then. At all. Think 1977 is the furthest back I have any memory of. I’ve got before pretty good, and lots after, but not a lot when they kept up a steady erasing.” But, he knows how Winter Soldiers behave when they’re first created. “He must hurt you a lot. Is he nice? At all?”

“Yeah, he can be nice,” Steve says, blushing. “But, I’m not usually looking for nice.”

“Okay. I understand. Good for you,” he says.

“Wait. That’s it? Bucky, we might come back here or…. Maybe a year from now? If that would make it less weird?”

A year. He can have his shit together in a year, right? Losing the love of his life. To himself. “I think a year is fine.”

He looks at his hand, flexes it. This new one they’ve given him looks like flesh. It’s just as good as the metal one, better because it’s lighter and feels exactly like his old hand did. Except for when he’s shutting down and compartmentalizing. Then his hand feels like it’s falling asleep. Pins and needles. The doctor says it’s psychosomatic. It helps him identify when he’s not connected to himself. Emotionally.

“There’s…. Peggy is defrosting their version of me. Think she hopes that maybe they can make it work. I don’t know.”

That’s kind of funny. Even Peggy Carter gets a Steve Rogers while Bucky doesn’t. “Will other you be happy with her? Newly defrosted in 1946, huh?”

Steve crosses his arms, oddly small. God, Steve was something else back then. “I don’t know. I crashed the plane on purpose. I wanted to die because you were gone. I liked Peggy a lot. Waking up in 1946 and trying to get on with my life without you… think it’s 50/50. Either I marry Peggy and it’s okay, or I’ll find a way to do it right. Explosion or something. I’ve taken that timeline’s you. If I told him, or Peggy, told that version of me to hang on for awhile because you were alive and eventually you’d be reunited, then that’s one thing, but there is no Bucky Barnes for him.” Steve’s eyes shimmer. Some empathetic response for this other version of himself. Not enough to let his guy go, though.

Steve looks at him. Bucky wonders if he said it aloud. “I’ve lost too much. He can’t have him. I’m sorry,” Steve says, and he starts crying. Bucky’s tired. So fucking tired and cold. Watching Steve cry is just….

“You’re not mine to take care of.”

“You haven’t wanted to take care of me since the helicarrier. You don’t know _how_. How many times did you walk away from me? _Run_ from me. _Hide_ from _me_. You would rather live in some shit-hole, _alone_, than be with me!” he says, shouting. “And then I found you, and you couldn’t wait to be frozen, could you? Do you know what he’d do if I tried to leave him? Run and hide from _him_?”

“I can’t even imagine.” Bucky can’t. But, he bets it’d be ugly. How different is he from when he was first created, the brainwashing not set, violence recently trained into him? “None of the running and hiding was about you.” Which is a lie, because everything is about Steve Rogers.

“Fuck you. You were trying to protect me. I didn’t need protection from you, I just needed you. I needed you to trust that I could handle it.” Steve does this thing, jaw clenching tight, his cheekbones standing out in high relief. When he thinks he’s right and he’s made a good point.

“Why would I do that?” Bucky asks, quietly. He tried to give Steve an out, take the blame, but if Steve really wants to have this conversation then sure, Bucky can tell him the truth. Steve looks stunned. Confused. “You _couldn’t_ handle me, Steve. You would have let me kill you. I left you after the helicarrier because I didn’t want to kill you. I froze myself so I wouldn’t kill you. Because you’d have let me. You didn’t deserve my trust. Because what I needed from you, for you to protect yourself, wasn’t something you could give me.” Steve needed more from him than he had to give. Steve wanted violence, just enough restraint so Bucky wouldn’t kill him. Steve wanted and wanted, and Bucky couldn’t keep himself together, let alone give pieces of himself to Steve.

“You know what he does?”

“What?” He’s blank and cold enough that the answer won’t affect him. He doesn’t care about the answer, that’s how far shut down he is. But, Steve wants to tell him.

“He _take_s from me. I get to support him. He lets me in, in a way you never did. I get to save him. I have to fucking save _someone_.”

Bucky walks to the front door. Opens it. It’s time for Steve to leave now. Steve’s voice shakes with rage when he says, “I’ll leave the date with Bruce. I said it was 50/50, but that’s bullshit. If you don’t go back and get him, I promise you he’ll be dead in a week. No one else has ever meant a damn to me. Not like you do.”

He leaves. Bucky goes to bed. He lays down. He shakes and the whole place could burn down around him and he wouldn’t notice. When he wakes up later, his pillow is soaked in tears and he’s wet himself. He’s hollow inside. “On your feet, soldat,” he says, because sometimes he likes to hear it aloud. He’s still fucked up enough that it works, lets him get up and get out of bed.

He showers, changes the bedding and waits. He’s supposed to see his therapist today. They’ll definitely have something to talk about.


	2. Chapter 2

1946

Peggy hates him. Steve has been defrosted and on his feet for two hours when the first person mentions what a fine job he’d do heading up the SSR. Peggy works there, apparently believes she’s in line to get in towards the top as it spins off into some new agency. But, Steve is here now. His very existence counts for more than her hard work. Everything she’s done, the relationships she’s made, her skills and abilities, it’s all irrelevant. “Always good to be shoved aside for a dead man,” she says, in that crisp, biting humor of hers.

She takes him to a diner and introduces him to her friend Angie. Angie is beautiful. Steve isn’t sure if he’s paranoid or not, but he’s got the distinct impression she hates him too. She calls Peggy ‘English’ and apparently they’re one room away from each other in a boarding house near the office. She puts her hand on Peggy’s shoulder, bends down to pour her a cup of coffee and Peggy glances down her uniform.

Huh.

“Tomorrow will be a very busy day, Steve. Even the president wants to see you. It’s quite a… _relief_, you being back.” Is that the word she’s going for? It almost sounds like she meant to say inconvenience. Oddly enough, it’s the first moment he’s had to really think ‘I’m alive.’

This will all be normal now. No more war. Days in offices and meals in diners. Hot cups of actual coffee with real cream and sugar. All around him people are smiling and laughing. Relief that the war is over is still palpable. Steve is alive. The sun is shining outside. The time difference from New York to Europe is 5 hours. That means it’s one am. Somewhere, in the bottom of a ravine, in the cold and the dark is Bucky’s mangled body, all alone and Steve is sitting in a fucking diner, everyone expecting him to be… happy?

“I’ll need to go see Bucky’s family as soon as possible. The rest of the guys can wait a bit, but that can’t,” he says. He didn’t ask to be found. Stark had looked at him with so much smugness. He’d expected Steve to fawn over him, be so grateful for bringing him back.

What the fuck is he going to say to Becca? To Bucky’s parents who were so good to him? How does he tell them that Bucky could have survived if he hadn’t been so god damned selfish?

Steve’s going to be sick. He excuses himself, goes to the bathroom and throws up. There’s a single sob and he manages to stop himself. There are boots in the stall next to him. He’s got to keep it together. He’s lucky. He’s alive. He’s a hero. His whole life is in front of him and there’s a beautiful woman waiting for him. Unless she’s screwing her best friend, he thinks, which is actually something Steve understands.

Maybe Bucky’s parents will let him sleep in Bucky’s old bed. Just for the night. One night. He wants to go _now._ He needs something of Bucky’s. It compels him out of the bathroom and back to Peggy. “What about Bucky’s things?”

“They were sent to his family. I believe yours were, too. Well, except for your dog tags,” she says, and she reaches into her purse, pulls them out. One is his. The other one is Bucky’s. He flips his aside and holds onto Bucky’s, stares at it and wonders what the best way is to kill himself. “Whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop. You’re tired and need to sleep. Let’s go.”

She leads him to an apartment. Sparse but functional. Someone will collect him at 8am the next day. There are clothes in the closet. All new. More expensive than anything he’s ever owned. Suits. Bucky always tied his tie. Doesn’t that sum up his life in a nutshell? He can’t even be presentable because the person who took care of him is gone. He finds himself looking at the ceiling. Could he hang himself?

Would it even work? Surely it would eventually. He just weighs so much that it’s hard to be sure everything would hold. “Steve?” Peggy asks, looking at him worriedly.

He tries to smile at her. “I don’t know if I can do this without him. I don’t want to.”

“Then I’ll stay with you, shall I?” She takes off her coat. As if it’s perfectly normal to stay in his apartment for the night. He hopes she doesn’t expect him to… fondue, his brain unhelpfully supplies. Bucky had looked at him like he was a total fucking idiot when he’d finally told him. He wouldn’t stop making fun of him. They actually ate fondue in Switzerland. So much cheese Steve had felt sick to his stomach.

Bucky had fucked him in the alley behind the pub. Technically, it had been someone’s back garden they’d snuck into. Hands freezing against the brick, breath fogging in front of his face. Bucky’s mouth hot on his skin as he kissed him and told him to relax. The heat of his body against Steve’s ass, the frigid air on his hole and how hot Bucky’s come had been. God, it had been good.

He puts his hand on his stomach, curls onto his side. He’d seen so many babies. Every woman was pregnant. With the amount of sex he and Bucky’d had, if he’d been a woman, he’d no doubt be pregnant. Bucky would be…. But Steve would have something.

No one will ever know how good Bucky was. There is no piece of him that will live on. That grief is weird and unexplainable. It’s cosmic. An affront to humanity to have no part of Bucky living on.

He’s laying on the bed and he can hear Peggy on the phone. Very quietly telling someone it’s no good. He isn’t going to make it, she says. It’s a relief that she knows. The odds are good she has a gun in her purse. Peggy doesn’t deserve that. He’ll wait. Even though every moment is an agony, he’ll wait a little longer. He cries himself to sleep.

He wakes up to the sound of a door opening. A low voice. A man’s, and for just a second he thinks it could even be Bucky. Peggy says goodbye, the door closing again. Silent footsteps outside his door. It’s only the opening of the door that lets him know someone else is there.

Whoever has come to relieve Peggy of the Babysit Steve Rogers Duty is very quiet. He doesn’t care who it is. He doesn’t care what they want. If Peggy has left, then he can kill himself now. Sneak out the window and get the job done.

He should see Bucky’s family first. He owes them and Bucky that. Not tonight then.

Not tonight.

The sadness in him has shape and mass. It’s consuming him and expanding from the inside. He sobs, turning his face into the pillow. He knows he’s being loud but he can’t stop. Someone sits next to him. “Sweetheart, it’s me.”

His heartbeat stops in his chest at the sound of Bucky’s voice and then starts up again. Steve gasps. A hand settles on his back, softly touching him. Just like Bucky used to.

The next sob sticks in his throat. The grief is still there, but it’s momentarily unnecessary. That sounded like Bucky. It’s Bucky’s touch. Is he… dead? He opens his eyes and looks at the person sitting there.

The bedroom lights are off, but there’s light from the hallway and he can see his face, clear as anything. “Bucky,” he says, pulling him down to kiss him and wrapping his arms tight around him. He doesn’t want to risk letting go. If he lets go, Bucky will be gone. That’s all there is to it. He keeps his arms around Bucky’s neck.

He opens his mouth, Bucky murmurs his name, trying to get him to stop for a moment. Steve’s had sex dreams before. You don’t stop. That’s the last thing you do, or else the next thing you know, you’ll wake up, or be in a zoo looking for a grocery store or something nonsensical. “Please, fuck me.”

“Stevie, wait.”

“No.” That’s it. There is no negotiating or hesitating. “I need you. I fucking need you so bad. I would never make you wait.”

He decides to risk the dream shattering, lets go of Bucky just enough to have one arm fumble with Bucky’s belt and his pants. Everything is so vivid. So damned real. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk after.”

“I hope so.” That would be nice. A dream where he gets to talk to Bucky _and_ have sex with him. Bucky moves his hand away and works on his pants. Steve shoves his boxers down, kicking them and the covers off the bed. “I was just thinking of that night in Switzerland. In that abandoned backyard. It was so cold and you were so hot.”

Bucky chuckles. “Tell me about it while I get you open,” he says, and Steve does. Taking him for fondue, and how much they’d had to drink. How relieved everyone was to have a break and a shower and a bed for a night or two. Spit slick fingers press into him, going straight to two and Steve gasps, clenches with discomfort. Bucky stills. “Too much?” he asks, surprised.

God knows it shouldn’t be. Steve loves two. Loves them fucked hard into him so that he either forces himself to relax, and go with it, or has to bite back a scream. Either way, it hurts so bad that it sets up the rest of whatever they’re going to do quite nicely. Two is nothing. Two is what they do.

But. 

“I don’t know. I just… I feel a little fragile. I love you so god damned much. I fucking miss you. I can’t do this if you’re not here and you can’t ask me to. I crashed the Valkyrie and I can’t even die without you, can you fucking believe it? I don’t want to wake up. Please, don’t make me wake up,” he says, and the sobbing is back.

“Stevie, sweetheart. This is real. I didn’t die when I fell from the train. I survived. Zola gave me a form of the serum at Azzano. I’m alive. You’re awake. Baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

That takes a bit to process. Bucky had been experimented upon. They were trying to recreate the serum. Could Bucky have survived?

“Turn on the light,” Steve demands. Is it a dream or is it reality? Does it actually matter so long as he’s with Bucky right now?

Bucky tries to pull away from him to reach the light. “You have to let me, you know.” Bucky sounds slightly amused.

Steve sits up with him, arms around his neck. He isn’t letting go. The light clicks on. The light hurts his eyes. Steve’s ass is damp with spit, his hole throbs faintly from Bucky’s fingers. His nose is stuffy and his head actually hurts from the crying. He’s thirsty. Do any of those things happen in a dream?

And then he looks at Bucky. _Really_ looks at him. This is not the same Bucky. He lets him go, puts a hand up to touch Bucky’s face. Steve can see the hurt etched into him. In his eyes. The strain and toll of it all. There are a few gray hairs at his temple. “I don’t understand.” It’s Bucky, but it isn’t.

“I’m not from 1946, baby. There’s time travel in the future. Like the dime novels we’d read sometimes. A lot of time has passed. I didn’t find you for a really long time.”

“When are you from?” he asks, shakily.

“2023.”

He can’t believe that. He just can’t. Bucky touches his face, just as careful. As if Steve is just as much of a revelation as he is.

“God, you look so damned young, Stevie. It’s all changing, but the future I knew, you were frozen until 2011. We met again in 2014. I was…. Well, I don’t remember a lot of what happened, but I spent a lot of time frozen, woken up to do missions and then put back to rest, between the train and 2014.”

“No.” Because that sounds like a nightmare. That’s not something that could happen to Bucky. And yet, this version of Bucky is so much older, has clearly lived through horrible things. There’s a distance to him. A graveness. It’s like a wall. How does he reach him? “You can’t leave me.”

“I know. I don’t want to,” he says, and there’s finally a break in his reserve. Bucky’s lower lip wobbles. He rolls it into his mouth so Steve can’t see.

“Do you still… _love_ me? If… if all that time has passed? Have you… is there someone else?” considering how wet his ass is, the answer should be no. In that split second, while he waits for Bucky to answer, he decides he doesn’t care what the answer is. Bucky is his. If some other person has their hooks into him, he’ll get Bucky back no matter what.

“No, Steve. Never.”He kisses Steve lightly. “I know this is a lot to spring on you, but how would you feel about going with me, to my time? The world needs us there. Things are different. We can be together easier, too.”

“But… your family is here. Our friends.”

He flinches. “I know it. But, this isn’t my place, Steve. Could we try? For a little? I can bring you back, if you want. Right to this moment, like no time has passed, whenever you want. I’m sure Peggy means well, but I have too much technology and information to stay here and not be worried that someone won’t try to keep me here. And, you’re not really supposed to be out of the ice yet.” Bucky frowns. “Although, I’m not sure how much that matters. Time travel is complicated.”

That’s mind boggling.But, he doesn’t actually care or need time to think. If he can have Bucky back again, he’ll follow him to the ends of the earth. And, there’s still a decent chance this is all a dream so what’s the harm? “Yeah, Buck. I’ll go anywhere you want.”

Bucky stands up, offers Steve his hand. Steve is already getting up. He won’t stop touching him.Just in case this isn’t real. Just in case…. He doesn’t even know. But the thing he loved more than anything in the world was gone forever and is suddenly back again, so he’s going to fucking hold on to it. Like he should have done on the train. He won’t fuck up again.

“You want to put your clothes on?” Steve doesn’t let go. Bucky smiles at him, even huffs a laugh. “I swear that I’m real, sweetheart.”

Steve grabs his underwear and his pants, even his shirt off the floor, only using one hand. “Hand them over,” Bucky says, and he takes Steve’s underpants, helps him put them on, does his pants too, but Steve keeps the shirt.

“Do I have to put it on? Can I just carry it?”

“I won’t disappear if you let go. I swear.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Steve says, dropping his gaze in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, baby. Okay. Put your hands on me, then.” Steve shoves his hands inside Bucky’s coat, under his clothing and against his skin, the hard muscles of his sides.

“You feel so good,” Steve says, so hard and aching. Not even his cock, but his skin. He needs Bucky’s touch and weight, his breath and scent. Bucky pulls the shirt over Steve’s head and he puts his arms through one at a time, always maintaining contact.

Bucky presses his lips to Steve’s. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay,” he says, and fuck if his voice doesn’t break.

Bucky leads him through to the living room. There’s a black bag on the floor. “I’m going to open the bag. I need two hands, Stevie,” Steve let’s Bucky’s hand go, but he follows his forearm with his hand, up his bicep, while Bucky leans down to get the bag. Keeping contact. Bucky stands up again, turns into him, cups his face in his hands, presses their foreheads together. “I’m here. This is real. I promise, Stevie.”

“I don’t know when I’ll believe it. I can’t let you go.”

“Okay. I don’t mind. It’s… a nice change, you being all sweet.” What does that mean? Before Steve can ask, Bucky says, “This is worse than when we went to see Dracula.”

“I was _ten_.”

“You became a human octopus.”

“Do I…. Do I have to stop touching you?” _Are you going to make me?_ He can’t ask that aloud. He steps forward, pressing his face into Bucky’s chest and collarbone, breathing him in.

“No, baby, you don’t.” Bucky takes the bag to the table, pulls out two white things that look sort of like watches and puts one on his wrist.

“Christ. You really are from the future. What the fuck is that?”

Bucky presses a few buttons. He puts Steve’s on too, adjusts the bag onto his shoulder. “Come on, baby. The future is waiting for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray for comments!! Thank you all so much. Really, really, really. 
> 
> And no, I've not forgotten about impossible.


	3. Chapter 3

They materialize in a living room with very new furniture. “Where are we?”

“Brooklyn. That firetrap we were in before I shipped out is a few blocks over. Well, it was. It’s gone now.”

Steve still hasn’t let go of Bucky’s hand. “So, this is either a dream, and I’ll just kill myself in the morning or it’s real and… and we’re actually in the future.” If there’s a third option, he doesn’t know what it is. Insanity?

Bucky gives him a look. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I mean it.”

“I _know_ you _mean_ it. That’s the part I don’t like.”

“The Whip and Fiddle got bombed out. I went there, after I lost you. Sat there and cried and… I can’t get drunk. Can you believe it?”

“I believe it. The serum they gave me works the same. Do you want the tour?” He’s already leading Steve towards the kitchen. It’s a lovely kitchen. More sleek surfaces and small electric lights.

“So, you have the serum?”

“Close enough.”

“And you… you survived and it’s 2023?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s a lot. I know.”

“There are no knobs or switches. This kitchen is massive. How rich are you?” Everything is similar but different. And there are a few things that just don’t make any sense.

Bucky kisses him on the forehead. “Not worrying about money takes some getting used to. Our pensions kept accruing and, well, money isn’t an issue.”

Bucky gives little explanations about things in the kitchen. It’s dark outside and that’s kind of a relief. He’s got plenty of information to deal with at the moment. The outside world can wait.

He looks around the room some more. “I like the color. You should put lavender outside,” he says, opening the back door, peering into the dark. There’sdefinitely a yard out there. Light blasts out of rooms all around them. “I want to yell at everyone to put the lights out so we don’t get bombed.” 

“Yeah. That gets better, too.”

Steve closes the door. “It’s kind of like the tadpole house in France.”

Bucky smiles at him like he’s said the right thing. Steve puts his hand back in Bucky’s clothing, under his sweater and along his side and lower back. “You feel so good. You’re so fucking beautiful, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky blushes. Which is kind of funny because that’s not usually a very easy thing to make happen. “I like the gray. And the slightly weathered look.”

“I’m an old man next to you, Steve.”

“Um, no. You look like you’re in your thirties. You could use some sleep maybe,” he says, kissing the corner next to Bucky’s eye. “Maybe… maybe a million really good orgasms, and I can help with that.” Steve’s been hard and barely paying attention the whole time. He needs Bucky to fuck him into next week. To kiss him and hold him and convince him this is real. “Yeah, I think you just need a week or two in bed,” he says, sliding his hand down to Bucky’s hard cock.

Bucky smiles at him. It’s not quite right, though. Bucky should be dragging him to the bedroom or shoving him to his knees but instead he steps back, keeps hold of Steve’s hand and gives him the tour of the house.

Okay. Steve can wait five minutes. Probably. He tries not to feel grief or like he’s being denied. Jesus, he just got Bucky back. His prayers have been answered. Bucky clearly hasn’t seen Steve in a while. Which is a whole other line of questionsthat he doesn’t want to ask yet.

He wants Bucky inside him. Steve smiles and tries to ask a few questions, as if he is genuinely interested in the thing Bucky says is a TV.Finally, finally, they make it to the bedroom.

“Why is the bed so big?” Steve demands. Seems like a massive waste of space considering how tightly they sleep together. Although more space is good for sex. And then no one has to sleep in the wet spot. But, he’s used to being crammed in close with Bucky. This thing is so big Steve could lose him in the night.

Bucky rolls his eyes at him. The light of the lamp hits Bucky’s face and reminds him this isn’t his Bucky. He’s so dear, though. He’s not sure he’d given a lot of thought to what Bucky would look like at 35 or so but he’s fucking gorgeous.

“Where’s your Steve? If you found me in 2014, why am I not here? Why is this closet filled only with your stuff?” he demands. He didn’t want to ask, but it’s weird. And Steve knows Bucky. Knows there’s some weird tension and hesitation he has towards Steve. Bucky should have shoved him into the bed already.

“It’s a long story. I don’t quite know how much to tell you. I’ve not gotten that far in planning this all out. I hadn’t really meant to take you from there or bring you here. The reality of you here is… it’s a lot.”

“Then, why were you there?” he asks, sitting down on the bed. Collapsing really. His heart is breaking. He might start crying again. What the fuck is going on here? And yeah, Steve lets him go. Bucky’s hand slides out of his, hangs at Bucky’s side. Bucky opens his hand and closes it, like it’s weird to not be touching Steve, too.

Bucky sits down next to him, takes his hand back in his and Steve presses into him. It’s something. “I’m scared. I don’t… I don’t understand what you’re doing and why you feel so far away.”

Bucky squeezes his hand reassuringly. “I went back to see if you were alright. You coming out ofthe ice so early is different then the reality I know. I had to make sure…. If you could make it with Peggy or not.”

“I don’t want Peggy.” Bucky saying that, thinking that, is bizarre.

Bucky laughs. “I’m not sure you were always so confident in that answer.”

“I have no idea, Buck. I always thought you’d marry. And, I didn’t want to be alone. I thought we’d make it out of the war, go back home and you’d…. But, if I have an option? If I have an option, then I just want you. And, that seems like a lifetime ago. That was before I lost you. I can’t live without you. There is no consolation prize that can make up for not having you. I love you more than anything. I need you.”

There isn’t anything else to say. Steve has been at least half-hard through all of this. But, it isn’t even about his dick. It’s the rest of him that needs Bucky. His mouth and his weight, his skin. He needs to be claimed by Bucky. Pinned down and made to believe Bucky wants him.

And, he almost feels like he should make sure Bucky wants him and wants to do this, but fuck he needs Bucky. What if Bucky says no or wants to wait? Steve is here, in Bucky’s bedroom and he’s sitting on this massive bed with it’s clean, fluffy bedding and he can’t bear rejection.“Do you have anything to make me slick?”

Bucky’s cheeks get pink. It’s not a typical reaction. Again. None of this is normal. Usually, Bucky would be one step ahead of him. He’d already have the slick out. He’d toss it to Steve, touch himself or Steve, tell him to hurry up. His Bucky would be on him already.

“Well, yeah. In the drawer. Are you… hungry?”

“For your cock? Yeah, yeah I’m fucking starving for it,” Steve says. He gets to his feet and undoes his pants. “Please, fuck me. None of this is real until you fuck me.” The words cock and fuck are usually all it takes to get Bucky moving. The hesitation is disturbing. “You… you want to, right?” Steve asks, suddenly terrified. Bucky reaches up and wipes a tear off of Steve’s cheek.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Finish taking your clothes off. Show me.”

“You want to see me?” he asks, uncertain. He can’t believe he has to ask. That Bucky isn’t taking charge and saying filthy things to him.

Steve strips his clothes off without hesitation and pulls the covers back. He turns back around and Bucky is staring at him. “You’re so damned young and beautiful. I feel like a weird pervert. Cradle robbing or something. You don’t… you don’t know everything.”

“I don’t fucking care. Tell me you want me. That you think I’m beautiful,” he says, practically begging. And not good begging. This is pathetic, uncertain begging. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I need you so much and I know I’m making a hash of it here.”

“It’s okay,” he says, wiping away tears. “It’s not that difficult to fix it. Nothing says sorry like your dick in my ass.”

And then Bucky’s shirt comes off. “You’re hurt,” Steve gasps, reaching for him. His shoulder is a mass of scars. There’s something synthetic, almost his skin and yet different that starts at his shoulder. Now that Steve looks, the whole limb looks a little different. He slides his hands down. The temperature is right. The skin is supple. It looks like his arm, but, it isn’t. He just knows it isn’t.

“I lost it.”

“When?”

He shakes his head.

“The train? _Bucky_. No, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” he says, choked up with emotion. He presses his lips to Bucky’s arm, kissing him over and over, having no way to apologize or make it better. “I’m sorry. I did this.”

“No. None of that. God, if you had any idea the shit we go through. _No_, I don’t want any blame or guilt between us. This is over and done. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters! It’s my _fault_. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay. I should have let you go home.”

“Look at me. I love you too much to blame you. You know I wouldn’t leave you there. Don’t you?” Steve shakes his head, wants to touch him, but is so horrified by what happened that he wants to hide, too. He stays still, frozen with indecision.

“Sweetheart, there is no way in the goddamned world I would have left you there. You were mine to protect,” he says with conviction.

Steve kisses his shoulder and touches the scars. They look so painful. He sobs. Why did he say it in the past tense? Steve _was_ his to protect. Would he let Steve stay on his own now? Bucky is rough all the sudden, hand in his hair, forcing him to look at him. “I won’t do this with you. It isn’t your fault,” he says, almost angry.

_Fuck_. It’s not the right response, too gentle, almost worshipful, but Steve drops to his knees, gets Bucky’s pants open, buries his face in his groin. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He’s so muscular. So honed. He thought Bucky was perfect before, but this is chiseled perfection, the right dash of rugged and hard.

Steve just, he just _needs_ him. “Fuck. Make me believe it then. Fuck it into me.” He sucks him down, moaning, but it’s not enough. Bucky was lost to him. Nothing may ever be enough to lessen that feeling of horrible emptiness. He swallows, chokes himself, doesn’t get Bucky’s hand on his head forcing him to take it.

Why is everything so different and distant? “Bucky. I can’t,” he cries, getting to his feet. He wipes his mouth. “I’ll blow you after. I have to feel you. I don’t want slick. Just do it.” He shoves to his feet, goes to the massive bed and gets his ass up in the air.

He’s shaking. Bucky puts a hand on his back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Hang on. You know I want you.”

Not yet, he doesn’t.

Hard and rough. Angry. Bucky needs to fuck him so hard that Steve knows he’s forgiven. That he won’t forget. There’s a drawer closing, a swipe of cold lube on his hole, Bucky moves in behind him, he can hear him slicking up his cock, still more care than Steve wants right now, and then the head is at his entrance, pressing into him and he tries to relax.

Bucky sinks in an inch, and Steve grunts, tilts his hips like he always does, trying to get himself open and relaxed, make it a bit more bearable. Bucky thrusts hard and unrelenting, seating himself while Steve cries out, the trembling in him growing. He clenches down on Bucky and Bucky swears at the vice like grip.

“Ride me to the bed,” he demands, and Bucky fucks him down, weight on his hips, gaining another half inch and stealing Steve’s breath. He collapses down and Bucky is on him, kissing his lips as Steve’s head is pressed to the side, mashed to the bed by Bucky’s heavy hand. He mewls, boneless and oppressed. _Now_ he knows where he is. Who he belongs to. Bucky fucks him hard, arms sliding under him, trapping him, holding him. “Tighter, tighter,” Steve keeps saying, because there isn’t anything else to say or want.

“Baby, hush. I’ve got you.” Bucky says, sucking a mark into Steve’s neck. Steve arches under him, thrashing without really meaning to, just trying to get _more_.

“I want to be on top. I can’t do this,” he says, sounding less hysterical than he feels. Bucky pulls out of him, carefully, and lays down on the bed. He touches Steve’s face, assessing where he is. Steve’s only half-hard as he sinks down on Bucky, his ass throbbing and so painful it’s going to take a lot to get him hard. Bucky gets a grip on him, jacking him to hardness. Or at least trying.

He grinds on Bucky and has to pause for a moment, in pain and unhappy and he doesn’t know why. Fuck, he’s so overwhelmed with grief and misery. Alone. He curls in on himself. He’s vulnerable, exposed as he sits there while Bucky lays down. If this were France he could be shot. He’s visible, too high. Panic goes through him. Would Bucky let him get shot? Not drag him to the ground and cover him with his own body? Would he still hide him in the long grass and flowers so no one could see him?

“Stevie?”

“Am I your sweetheart?” Steve begs. Steve covers his own face with his hands and shakes. Shit, he’s a fucking mess. “Do you love me?”

Bucky sits up and it shifts his big cock inside Steve and Steve whimpers, throws his arms around Bucky’s neck. “Easy. Careful,” Bucky says, well acquainted with Steve in pain on his cock.

“It hurts,” he confesses. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you. How about we slow down for a minute? Not for long. Give me a second to catch my breath, feel you.”

Steve shakes his head. “I need you to come in me.”

Bucky presses a kiss to Steve’s neck and reaches between them, his hand on Steve’s cock. He’s soft now. “Kiss me, Steve. That’s what I need from you right now.”

Steve tries, bumping their noses together and biting Bucky’s mouth, frantic and off. Bucky makes a sound, pulls away from him. “Easy, sweetheart. Easy.”

“Am I your baby?” Steve asks, quietly. He shoves his head into Bucky’s neck, hates that he’s asked and asked and he isn’t getting the response he needs. Whatever that may be. It should have been a hard cock in his ass, the pain sweeping him away, so good and familiar and that’s not right, either. “I don’t know what you want.” God, he sounds so fucking pathetic. Steve needs to get pounded into next week.

“You are. Of course you are,” he says, whisper soft. Fingers slip around his ass and to Steve’s hole, brushing carefully along his rim, feeling where they’re connected. Steve whimpers and twitches, tries to scramble away or closer from the soft touch, but Bucky’s arm clamps around his back, holding him still. And it isn’t his real arm. There’s a difference in how it feels. How strong it is. The softness isn’t the same as real flesh. This is all his fault. He deserves to hurt.

“Bucky. Bucky, please make me. I want it. I swear I do. You know I do. I need you to hurt me.” Steve needs it hard. He’ll get through it. Bucky’s fingers go up and down his back in a slow, soothing stroke. Steve burrows closer and whimpers at the delay. He clenches on Bucky and the sharp pain in his hole overwhelms him.

“I’m gonna need you to come off my cock for a minute, babydoll,” Bucky says it quietly. Resolute.

“_No_. I’m okay. I want it. I just want to make you happy. Please, let me. You know I can take it.”

“Of course you can. That’s not what we’re talking about here.”

“What do you think we’re talking about? What are you going to do if I _let you_ pull out?” he demands, and Jesus Fucking Christ he doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him but he’s crying.

“I know you can take it. And you always make me happy, sweetheart. It’s been a hard day, that’s all. It’s okay to be emotional and need a minute,” Bucky says, not rising to the bait. If anything Bucky seems to relax more, move even more carefully.

“I don’t need a minute. Come on, Buck. I trained you better than this,” he says, and he can’t even look at him as he says it. He’ll just start sobbing if he does. God, it’s all so weird. Steve hates softness and gentleness. He hates it when Bucky tries to treat him like it’s some kind of date and Steve is some fragile flower. He does.

Bucky grips him hard, the back of his neck, that unreal hand making it impossible to move. Steve makes a sound, but keeps his eyes closed. He forces Steve’s head up, hand hard in Steve’s hair and Bucky kisses his face, one cheek and then the other. Fuck, there are tears all over his face and Bucky knows it.

“Yeah, you taught me well,” Bucky growls, the same old fight lurking under the surface. “But, you’re fucking lying to me. You’re being a brat and a child. I won’t fuck you like this,” he says, free hand clenching bruisingly hard on Steve’s hip as he uses both hands to force Steve up and off his cock. Steve cries out at the quick withdrawal, weirdly desperate now.

“No! You _have_ to. Bucky. _Please_,” he begs. “Oh my god, please,” he sobs and Bucky shoves him to the bed, manhandles him over to his stomach and lays on top of him. Steve starts to struggle. Bucky takes Steve’s hands in his, keeps them low at his back and pins him to the bed. Which makes Steve lose his god damned mind. He yanks and pulls, swears and does his best to get Bucky off of him, to get loose and he can’t.

“You’re not the same,” Steve finally says, giving up and laying there. Defeated. Betrayed. Lost.

“No, baby. I’m a lot stronger than I was. I won’t fight you, Steve. I’m sorry this is difficult for you, but we’re going to need to find another way to deal with this.”

Steve presses his face into the pillow. The pillow that smells like Bucky. Only Bucky. What happened to the other Steve? Why isn’t Bucky with _him_? He’s so damned scared to ask now. “I… I love you. I can be good.”

“Babydoll, I love you, too. Of course you’re good.”

“I’m sorry. Please, please fuck me. Really hard, if you love me, you will. I’m not trying to be a brat I just want to know you’re alive. I want to feel like you love me.” 

Bucky sighs. He kisses Steve’s back. “Will you be honest with me if it hurts too much?”

_Shit_. “It’s never too much. I like it.” Bucky lets go of his wrists and Steve tries to get up, wants Bucky to move off of him. He’ll take what he wants and Bucky will like that. He _will_. Steve will make him like it. Cajole him with gentle words and promises while he forces Bucky to use him hard.

“_No_. We’ll do things a little differently today, Steve. You move where I tell you and when. I want you on your back, legs spread. I’m going to open you up a little and you’re going to tell me the truth or we’ll just go to sleep. Five minutes. You know it will still hurt. I’ll do you so you still get it how you want it, but you’re flinching and god, what if you tear?”

“No!” The rage and despair that coil through him are indescribable. “I fucking _lost_ you! I lost you,” he says, and now he gets free, so enraged and desperate that he dumps Bucky off of him and scrambles on top. “You _can’t_ deny me. You just can’t. I’ll be good. I’ll be the best. You can’t call me a brat. Can’t put me to bed or deny me. You’re everything to me. I need you to make me feel it. I don’t care if I tear. Rip me open. Make me bleed. We both know I deserve it. Won’t that make me slick?” He could laugh. It’s there, horrible and unnatural inside of him.

He reaches for Bucky. Finds him soft. Never. Not in a million years has Bucky been soft. He’s been half hard and he’s been quiet after some of the things Steve wants him to do, but he’s never been like this. “Oh my god,” Steve says, horrified. He wants to puke. He rolls to the side and sobs.

Long moments pass. The bed finally shifts as Bucky comes closer. There’s the snick of a cap. Bucky getting lube. “Come here, darling. Face me. Leg on my hip.”

Steve turns towards him, desperate and sad. He obeys instantly, needing Bucky. Bucky doesn’t want him. He’s never been soft. He’s never not wanted Steve. “T-tell me and I’ll try to do it right,” Steve stammers. His whole fucking world is falling apart. Has he gotten Bucky back just to realize he can’t actually keep him? 

“Stevie. We’re okay. I want to fuck you. You know I do. But, sweetheart, you were lying to me. You know I have a hard time hurting you. I always have and that’s… that’s even more difficult now. If you don’t need it hard, for _once_ in your god damned life, why can’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” he says, feeling small and alone. “I’m scared,” he says. Bucky puts his hand over Steve’s cock, gently cupping him. He’s basically soft now too.

“You’ve never not been hard when I fuck you, Steve. The rougher it is the more you drip. Baby, whatever that was, it clearly wasn’t working for the both of us. If being rough with you isn’t working, the answer isn’t to go harder. It can’t be. I’m… sorry. I can’t.” Bucky kisses him, a desperate apology. “Here we are. Steve. We’re together. This is our second chance. We’re so fucking lucky, Steve.”

Steve nods, unable to speak. He clutches him tighter, puts his hand over Bucky’s and presses. Not too hard, but just to feel him. He needs to connect with Bucky this way. None of this is real until they have sex. “What do you want me to do?” he whispers. 

“God, Steve, let me take care of you,” Bucky says, kissing him gently, urging Steve to open his mouth so he can kiss him. He adjusts his grip on Steve’s cock, strokes him lightly. Not so much tentative, but like Steve’s cock _isn’t_ one he knows as well as his own. His knuckles brush lightly along the base, over his balls and it’s maddening. It’s too soft. Steve gets hard, tries to rock up into the touch. He whimpers.

“Good. Thank you, baby,” Bucky murmurs into his mouth and Steve trembles at the lust in Bucky’s voice. There’s a hint of something there, possessive and in control. He nods in agreement, too overcome to speak. Bucky’s finger presses into him, wet and careful.

“Oh,” Steve gasps and he lets it happen, keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t demand more. This time, just this one time, he’ll take what Bucky gives him, when Bucky wants to give it to him and Steve will try. He forces himself to relax. Bucky’s finger pumps in and out of him easily.

“What a good boy you are,” Bucky says, voice low and soft, feeling the difference as Steve gives in. Aroused. Steve reaches for him, finds Bucky almost completely hard now. Which is everything.

“I can be good. Anything you want,” he says, offering his mouth. Bucky presses against his prostate, just one finger rubbing into it, making him jolt.

“Is that okay?” he asks, softly.

“Mm hmm, okay. It’s good. Promise.” Bucky smiles against his mouth and Steve has to see him, see Bucky looking at him happily and like he loves him. As if he’d never, ever go soft on him. Bucky’s eyes are gray. He’s staring at Steve so intently it makes Steve blush and look away.

“No. Show me.”

It takes a moment for Steve to get the courage to do that. That’s difficult. It makes him weirdly vulnerable to let Bucky see that the softness and the love is good too. “I love you, Steve. Please?”

Steve’s eyes are so filled with tears he can’t even see him at first. Bucky’s cock grinds into Steve’s hip, his breath catches at whatever he sees on Steve’s face. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky, I’m leaking,” he says, a little embarrassed as wetness drips onto his stomach.

“That’s fucking beautiful. I like you messy. God, Steve. I want more of that. Are you ready for two now, baby? Should we try?” he asks, cheeks flushed with how much he wants Steve.

“Yes, please,” he says, shyly, but it’s apparently the right response because Bucky looks at him like he has hung the fucking moon. Steve’s finally got something right.

Bucky kisses him again, deep and languid. Two fingers press into him, slow and careful, pausing at the first knuckle.

“_Oh_, oh, that’s good.”

“Is it? You’re so hot and tight, baby. What a good boy you are. Letting me take my time,” he says, “Please, baby, just let me make you feel good. I love you so much. Listen to you,” he says, like Steve is a wonder. Bucky gives him more, fingers feeding into him, opening him and then rubbing against his prostate until he leaks again and writhes closer.

“So fucking pretty, Steve,” Bucky growls, and he’s got three fingers at Steve’s entrance and is pressing into him, watching Steve’s face. “Are you okay?” he asks, desperately sincere.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m good,” he says, kissing Bucky’s jaw and sucking on his stubbled skin, that cleft in his chin. He’s more than okay. He’s safe. Every moment gets easier and more precious. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m so fucking hard for you, Steve. You know I want you? Always?”

“Oh, shit. I’m gonna start crying again,” he says.

“Get a hand on yourself, then. Jerk yourself off for me.”

He touches his balls and the shaft, but isn’t all that interested in jerking himself off yet. He wants to focus on Bucky, think of him and how lucky he is to be here with him. He wants to remember how Bucky is looking at him right this moment. His own orgasm is unimportant. “Can I… can I wait? I want you in me when I come. Want to be all wet with you inside me. You have no idea how much I want that.”

Bucky pulls his fingers out and Steve goes to his back. “Pull your leg open, I want to see.” Bucky lines himself up, moans as he presses into Steve, watching, riveted, as the head of his cock presses in. He pulls out and watches Steve’s hole spasm in response. He presses back in again and grabs Steve’s hips, pulling him in towards his cock and then putting Steve’s leg onto his shoulder. He presses deep, the angle making him open and Bucky goes in so much easier than before. Now it’s just pressure and fullness, it’s not nearly as hard as he likes it, but he feels so damned fragile he doesn’t think he could take anything besides this and not fall apart. Bucky was right. This is good. Maybe he did need it like this. Just this once. “Thank you.”

Bucky smiles at him, seems a little unsure how to respond to that level of sincerity, and settles for kissing Steve for long minutes, fucking into him slow and easy. Then he’s got a hand on Steve’s chest, “I’ve missed your tits, Steve.”

“They missed you too. Always so sensitive for you.” His cock spasms as Bucky touches his nipples, squeezes him hard, getting his nipple to ache. It’s too much right now. “Stop or I’ll come. I don’t want to come yet. Want you filling me up first.”

“I’m in you,” Bucky says, misunderstanding, pressing deep with a firmer thrust so Steve feels him all the way, full and stretched impossibly wide.

“No, I…. If I could have your baby, I would. It’s so stupid but that’s all I kept thinking after you died. After all the sex we’d had and I couldn’t be knocked up. All those women whose husbands died, but at least they got children. I got… I didn’t have _anything_. I want to come after you fill me up,” he says. If he’d had a baby he would have kept going. Something to live for.

“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky says, and he fucks into him harder, suddenly urgent. He comes, Steve feels it, clenches and tries to milk him of every last drop, doesn’t stop until Bucky hisses a sound and his hands clamp down on Steve’s hips, forcing him to still.

Steve shakes his head and cries, doesn’t know how he kept it together that long. “I lost you. I lost you,” he cries, and the come rushes out of him as Bucky slips free. Steve’s hand goes back, desperate to keep him. A part of him. He tries to push the come back it in but it seeps out around his fingers. Lost. “It’s not fair.”

Bucky holds him tight and strokes his hair. “It’s alright. I’m here now. I love you, Steve.”

He’s kind of waiting for Bucky to make fun of him, but he doesn’t. He just holds him and lets him cry, puts his own finger back with Steve’s, pressing his fingers into Steve’s hole, keeping Steve grounded, the last drops of come protected inside himself. Steve finally settles down, exhausted and empty, his breathing easier. “Do you want to come?”

“It isn’t important.”

“I do want to give you what you want, Steve. What you need.” Bucky sighs, heavily. “I love you. We’ll find a compromise on the pain. Just be a bit patient with me.” He clutches Steve a little tighter. As if Steve might be the one to walk away from him.

“Do you want my cock and a finger?” he asks. Which, yeah, Bucky knows how to make that fucking hurt. They did that a lot after the serum. When they had time.

“It isn’t to do with that,” he says, and it’s true. The pain and how much he’d wanted, that constant struggle of what Bucky was comfortable with versus what Steve craved… that’s just bullshit right now. That’s semantics. It was important at the time because it could be. They were together and he thought they’d make it out of the war together. He’d taken it for granted.

He’d taken Bucky’s _existence_ for granted. Taken his devotion and even his lust for granted.

Steve doesn’t want to do that again. Maybe it will be important again later, but not right now. “I just feel really overwhelmed and making you feel good was important to me. I did that. I got what I wanted. It isn’t a big deal.” He lifts his head, wants Bucky to know he means it. “Promise.” 

He snuggles into Bucky’s arms, his back to Bucky’s front. Bucky’s hand slips out of his hole and Steve swallows down the loss. Bucky cups him, gets Steve’s soft cock and balls in his hand. It makes Steve feel safe. Protected. They were supposed to protect each other. “I like this,” he confesses. Bucky warm at his back, holding him safe and kissing his neck.

“Are you…lying?”

“No, I swear, I’m not,” Steve says, surprised he’d even ask. “I feel good. Maybe like I’ve _been _good or something. Special. That might be silly.”

“Then I like you silly. No one would _ever_ describe you as silly,” Bucky says, amused.

“What about that time I had the tadpoles in my shorts?”

“You didn’t put them there. You have to actively do something to be silly. Maybe when you screamed like a girl after they fell out.”

“You would have screamed too!”

“We’ll never know.”

“We don’t need to know. _I_ know. You _would_ have screamed.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These poor bastards. I've had a horrible migraine all day but wanted to get something posted. Please let me know if this is working for you or not. Like, Steve is a mess but hopefully in a vaguely in character way, and I hope Bucky isn't an asshole.


	4. Chapter 4

Maybe it makes sense that he dreams of the train and Bucky dying. That he wakes up crying out Bucky’s name. When he turns in his arms, realizes it really is him, then there’s nothing else for it but to beg for Bucky to fuck him again. He turns back over, wants it with him on his side, and Bucky just fucking into him. Brutal. Proof of life.

“What time is it? Let me check you, baby?” Bucky mumbles, sounding sleepy still. It’s a careful request to use slick, couched in terms they both understand.

“I… Please, no. Just fuck me. I really want to feel you after. For a few hours at least. Could you do it without slick, but maybe move more carefully? You could…start slow? If you want?” Steve always wants it rough enough to make every thought be about Bucky and the minute movements of him inside Steve. Painful enough to wash away everything and leave him feeling clean and soft. Outside of himself and content. The lack of slick sets him on fire. The brutality of it all steals his breath, rolls over him after they’ve both come, settles over him like a blanket. It’s fucking beautiful. But, maybe he can skip that bit. This time. For Bucky.

“Fucking hell. Are you compromising?”

“I’m trying to. I’m not _always_ unreasonable.” Steve is _always_ unreasonable and they both know it. Especially about how he likes to get fucked. But, things aren’t right between them. He can’t stand the idea of Bucky denying him. What they did a few hours ago was perfect in the end, but damn it was hard getting there. If they can avoid that, Steve wants to.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. No extra lube, but careful. My clever Stevie.” Bucky takes him at his word, the head of his cock between Steve’s cheeks, shoving into him. It hurts and he cries out, body rigid. Bucky stills, touches his arm. He’s waiting for Steve to demand more. Steve can’t get the words out. Another fucking lump in his throat. Another moment passes. “Stevie, is this what you want?”

It is. Of course it is. He nods. Makes an encouraging sound and Bucky kisses his neck, gentling him. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he says, patient and solid. More patient than he used to be. He isn’t trembling with the need to fuck Steve, he isn’t radiating frustration like he sometimes did. Steve doesn’t understand this Bucky or this reaction. Even more worryingly, he doesn’t understand how Bucky feels in this moment. 

“I’m ready,” he finally says, and Bucky’s fingers get hard on his hip, a signal before he presses forward. He’s taught Bucky to make him take it. He doesn’t slam into him but it’s still too much and Steve locks up again. Rigid. Crying out in a way that makes Bucky stop. This is a different pain.

“Stevie. It’s time for lube,” he says, determined. “And you have to let me open you up some. Five minutes.”

“Or what?” he demands.

“Please, don’t,” he says, tonelessly. 

“Would you… would you not fuck me? You can’t threaten me with that. I swear, I can’t handle that. I have to know that you want me.”

“Babydoll.” He holds Steve as tightly as he can, “I love you. I will always fucking love you. I have never wanted anyone like I want you. I know how you feel, how you taste and how you sound when you’re getting it how you like it. I’ve paid attention.”

Steve blushes. “I know, Bucky,” he says, kissing his arm and his hand, feeling soft and safe in this big, too comfortable, clean bed.

“Good. You’re tight, baby. You’re clenching up wrong.”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep and not feel where you were.”

Bucky reaches around him, cups Steve’s breast in his hand. “I know your body, and when you like the pain, and this isn’t that. I’m not trying to threaten you, but it’s okay to want it a bit gentler more than once. The world won’t end.”

“I know what I like. And I know what you didn’t like. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to do it gently when that’s not normal and is a weird one off. Two off,” Steve says, becoming defensive. Vaguely, he wishes he wasn’t becoming defensive.

“Why not?” Bucky asks, sounding only slightly exasperated.

Steve shakes his head. Too choked up to answer. Bucky waits him out because Bucky is a fucking asshole who’s _always_ happy to sit around and fucking wait, ever since he’d lived in a god damned tree for days on end so he could get the right shot. “Because you really liked what we did and you looked at me like… and I don’t know if I can get used to that and then have you take it away from me.”

“I looked at you like what?”

“As if I was everything you’d ever wanted. You finally fucked me how you wanted to.” And there was a difference, Steve thinks, but that’s impossible to say.

“No. That’s bullshit and that’s not it.”

“When have we _ever_ had sex you liked better?”

“Steve.”

“No, fuck you. You can’t call me out for lying to you and then do it right back. Admit it.”

“I don’t want to argue with you about which time we fucked was amazing or not. But, maybe you need to think about what that says, Steve. About how we’ve done things in the past. If you feel threatened—”

“I don’t _know_ how I feel. I wish I’d never said any of it.” He moves away, hating himself for pulling away because he doesn’t want to be away from Bucky for a single moment, but his body is moving anyway. Bucky grabs him, hauls him back, slings a leg over his hip and traps him there. Admittedly, Steve doesn’t fight him. At all. He sighs in relief, kisses whatever he can reach ingratitude.

“I will _always_ haul you back to bed, baby. I’m going to keep you here. Keep you with me. Every single moment for as long as you want.”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t want to fucking cry anymore. Please, please. We can use as much lube as you want to, I just need to know you’re alive and that you want me.” God, Steve knows he’s being a head case. He hates himself for it. What if Bucky hates him too?

He waits. Bucky starts slow, just cupping his breast and lightly touching his nipple. Then there’s a hint of nail next to the hardened point. Steve’s hips press back. “How about you look at me so I can play with your tits for awhile.”

He turns over, eager to be kissed and played with. Bucky moves down the bed to get his mouth on Steve’s chest. That’s good. Bucky working Steve’s chest has always made them both happy.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” he says, when he’s trembling and on the edge from just that. He’s getting sore and swollen, a hot need building up inside him. He wants…. Steve doesn’t know what he wants.

“I know. I love you. Time travel and me coming back from the dead gets you a pretty big pass I think.”

Steve chuckles. “Maybe it’s the shock of it all. You’re right in that I don’t want it hard right now. Well, I do, but maybe I’m not mentally prepared to handle it. I don’t know. I want it and then when you give it to me….”

“Let’s do something else then or we can stop now and sleep. Do you want me to suck your dick, baby? Or eat you out?”

“No. I don’t want you that far away. What do you want?”

“I want you,” Bucky says, carefully. As if this might be a trap.

“Yeah. I know,” he says. Steve can feel how hard Bucky is. That part, at least, is as it should be. “Maybe…. Treat me like you’d treat one of your girls.”

“My _girls_?”

“You know what I mean,” Steve whispers. He just feels so raw and fragile. Like he could lose everything in a moment. “I don’t want you to be mean to me right now. I want you to treat me like I’m special but we don’t do that. So, let’s do it totally different. Maybe, maybe like I’m not a sure thing.” Soft, he thinks. Careful. Like he might break. But, he’s never said anything like that before in his fucking life, and he can’t start now. He needs Bucky to make sure he doesn’t break. “I think if you try to do it like we always do it, then I’m gonna…. Do you remember that movie we saw with people surfing in the ocean?”

There’s a moment of silence. Maybe Bucky doesn’t remember. “In Hawaii, they do this thing called surfing,” Steve explains. “It’s a board and you can ride the waves?”

“Right. I remember surfing. Surfing is a thing now. I’m familiar. Go ahead.” Bucky kisses him on the shoulder like Steve is cute. He’s got the impression Bucky is trying not to laugh at him. Steve ignores it. “Tell me about surfing, sweetheart.”

“Pain is like that. I’m waiting for the right wave and then it’s like I can be on top of it. It’s a rush. You give me pain and I follow it. Usually. But, I’m so upset and happy to have you back that I can’t find the right wave. I’m not getting on top of the pain. It just feels like you’re hurting me.”

“Okay. That makes sense to me. And, I’m telling you that I know you love surfing. And that you would surf all day, every fucking day, given half a chance. Except maybe today where you want to go paddle boarding.”

“What’s paddle boarding?”

There’s a faint hesitation. “Just not surfing.” 

“Right. So, you know, do what you want,” he says, like it isn’t a big deal. It’s a _really_ big deal.

“Fuck you and not hurt you?”

“Yeah. Like I’m someone else. Give me half the attention you’d give any fucking girl on a Saturday night.” And there may be some bitterness there.

“Steve Rogers, do you want me to seduce you?” Bucky asks, playfully.

Steve knows he’s pouting, but he doesn’t want to be made fun of, at all. “You probably don’t even remember how to,” he says, grumpily. 

Bucky gets him on his back and presses up close, raises up on an elbow and looks down at him. He touches Steve’s cheek with a finger, kisses his nose. “No, I’m pretty damned sure I don’t. What would I do if you were a girl I’d convinced to go out with me on a Saturday night? Well, I’d take you to dinner, and you’d likely eat up all the money I’d meant to spend on booze. And, you wouldn’t want to go dancing.”

Steve shoves at him. This isn’t a joke. Some part of Steve is aware that he’s being petty, overly sensitive. “Never mind. Just drop it,” he says, and he would normally leave in a huff, slam the door and rage at what an asshole Bucky is. But, he can’t leave him, not even for a minute. What if Bucky disappeared?

“Stevie?” he asks, like maybe someone else is in bed with him.

He doesn’t say anything. He’s pissed. He can’t get up and leave this bed, but he doesn’t have to talk to him. Fine, Steve has _one_ thing to say. “It’s like I’ve had the shit beaten out of me by Charles Shirley, and instead of fussing over me, you’re punching me some more. Tonight you can treat me like a nice girl who _wouldn’t_ eat your entire paycheck and who _would_ go dancing. But, if you’re a dick to me I swear to god I’ll—”

Bucky kisses him until Steve goes soft again. When Bucky pulls back he has a stupidly dopy look on his face. Bucky looks really, really young. Or happy.

“There is one problem, Steve. And this may be something we just can’t work around. I don’t want a nice girl. I heard you were fast. You’ll let me kiss you at least, right?” His big hand settles on Steve’s jaw, urges him to turn his head with the faintest pressure and he goes, sighing into it. The kisses are a tease, barely there, almost insubstantial, so soft and delicate that Steve winds up lifting his head, chasing after him. “Is that okay? Can I kiss you again, sugar?” Bucky whispers.

“I don’t know. I think by now someone would have told me to watch out for that Bucky Barnes and I’d try to sneak away with my virtue if I had any sense,” he says, slightly uneven. The kisses are making him so fucking hard. 

“I hope not. It was probably my punk friend Steve and everyone knows he’s a liar.”

“He’s just jealous,” Steve mutters, before Bucky kisses him.

“He shouldn’t be. I’d follow him home like a needy dog, any night of the week, if he’d let me.” And, okay, that’s nice. Who wouldn’t like that? He kisses Steve again, his tongue carefully licking along the seam of Steve’s lips. Coaxing him to open his mouth. It isn’t like any other kiss he’s ever had before. What other kisses and touches are there that Steve’s just never had? Rejected from Bucky over the years? Bucky deepens the kiss but pulls back, maddeningly soft and gentle, forcing Steve to pursue him again, lift his head, chasing contact.

He should pull Bucky down to him, grind his erection against him, get him lined up and sinking home. But, he can wait a little longer. The arousal is building inside of him, like a small fire Bucky is tending, careful and patient. “You’re so fucking pretty,” Bucky murmurs and it’s stupid. “Your lips are so soft. Can I kiss you a little more, sugar?”

“Bucky,” but he doesn’t know how to finish the thought.

“Is that a yes? I don’t want to push you,” he says, even as his hand is gliding up Steve’s thigh. As if he is actually a good girl and not a sure thing.

“_Yes_.”

Bucky kisses him again, with a bit more tongue, a hand stroking through his hair, cupping his face, down to his neck. His thumb rubs gently under Steve’s jaw and it makes him shiver. “Yeah?” Bucky whispers, into his mouth.

“Yeah,” he says, overwhelmed as he realizes just how focused Bucky is on him. The slightest shiver or hesitation and Bucky notes all of it. Like Steve really _is_ special. And precious. _This_ is what all those girls got. Why Bucky always had a date and an endless stream of girls who’d giggle when they said his name.

Right this very moment Steve feels special and beautiful, as if he’s this revelation Bucky is happy just to be near. Steve can’t figure out how it’s quite so different but it is. This thing he’s doing, this repertoire is… Bucky is a damned seduction genius.

Steve _likes_ this. He wants more of it and more of Bucky. He doesn’t know how to get it. Not with all the years of crap between them. “You’ve never called me sugar,” he says, when Bucky next pulls back.

“Sorry,” Bucky murmurs, into his neck, a small kiss under his ear making his cock ache to be touched.

“I don’t mind. I like it,” he says, and Bucky hums into his neck for a moment. It’s against the column of his throat, a vibration of sound, but he feels it go down his spine, expand in prickles along his lower back.

“Christ,” Steve says, surprised. Bucky kisses that spot again, opens his mouth, a faint press of teeth and it happens again. Steve’s cock pulses, is leaking on his stomach because he likes it so much. Bucky’s relentless about it then, working that particular spot and then kissing him some more until Steve is practically begging under him.

“I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you, Stevie,” and Steve whimpers. A desperate, needy whimper that he can swear he’s never made before and never will again.

“I can’t wait,” Steve says, and puts a hand on himself. Bucky pulls Steve’s hand away, laces their fingers together and Steve kisses him hard, ready for more.

“Can’t I take care of you? Will you let me, sugar?”

Steve slumps back to the bed, only now realizing he’d lifted up, was trying to shove Bucky to his back so he could ride him.

“I want it,” Steve whispers.

“And I want to give it to you. God, do I want to. Please, baby, let me touch you a little more, kiss you all over? Gentle. I swear,” he says, and his hand is on Steve’s breast, thumb brushing gently over the nipple. “I’ll make it so good for you if you let me slow down.” He bends his head, flicks his tongue over Steve’s nipple and Steve gives in, lays back while Bucky touches his chest, sucks on him and drives him insane. He does stupid things, little _soft_ things that Steve wouldn’t even notice if they were doing it like Steve always wants to.Bucky breathes on his nipple. A puff of air and Steve is biting back more sounds. Bucky’s bottom lip grazes the tiny peak, seems to catch on the tip of it, tugging so softly Steve almost doesn’t notice it. Almost. He needs to come.

If every touch wasn’t so careful and precise, didn’t require all of his attention he wouldn’t have noticed. “Bucky,” he breathes, slipping his hands into Bucky’s hair. “Please, can I come?”

“I haven’t even gotten to the other one yet.”

“I’m going to die.”

“Hush. Just lay there and be a good girl. I’m kissing you. I want to take my time,” he says, and he moves to the other breast.

“Jesus, I don’t know if I can do it,” he says, and he clenches tight in Bucky’s hair, tries to shove him down, get that hot mouth on his cock instead.

Bucky hesitates, eyes rolling up to look at him. “I’ll do that if you want. Kiss you down there. Do you need my mouth on you, sugar?”

“I do,” he says, very much blushing at being called ‘sugar’. He’s ignoring the other thing all together. It’s part of the act. A one and done. He’s so turned on he can let it slip away and not comment.

“Are you wet?”

“You know I am.” Besides, it was probably an accident.

“Are you aching?”

“Yeah, Buck. I am.”

“A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t ache. I’ll kiss it better, use my tongue and you can come on it like my pretty girl.” Steve freezes, desperately afraid he might come. Come from Bucky calling him pretty girl? It’s most definitely not being an accident. No fucking thank you.

The urge passes and Steve exhales. “Now. Come on.”

Bucky lifts his head, waits until Steve makes eye contact (which takes a minute, he’s so keyed up and out of it. So long that Bucky presses a kiss to his ribs before speaking, smiling a little. “I’ll take care of you, Stevie.”

And, Steve logically _knows_ he means sexually. He kisses his way down Steve’s body, not that there was any real doubt about what he was referencing. But, it feels like Bucky’s saying he’s going to take care of Steve like he used to. With his protection, his friendship, hell, with his name and reputation. People left him alone because they knew Bucky would come after them. Steve couldn’t pick a fight in his own neighborhood, because no one would take him on for fear of Bucky’s wrath. “Want you to take care of me.”

“Here? Can I kiss you here?” he asks, little kisses to the inside of Steve’s thighs.

“Bucky,” he whispers, so fucking close. “It won’t take long.”

Bucky kisses his balls and then lower, big hands spreading him open, swiping against his hole where there’s lube and come and he puts his tongue there. “Fuck, Bucky, don’t.”

Bucky pulls back, finger rubbing gently around the rim as he stares at Steve’s hole. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not… there’s lube and come and, just blow me,”he says, embarrassed. “Or fuck me.”

“I told you I was going to make you come on my tongue. That’s what we agreed.”

“Yeah, but you also just said I was a good girl,” Steve gasps. Damn. He shouldn’t have repeated it. Bucky’s tongue presses into him and then pulls out.

“I think I said you were a _pretty_ girl. Don’t think I don’t know the difference,” he says, darkly, and presses a kiss to Steve’s hole. 

“I’m not sure _I_ know the difference,” Steve says, blushing and he isn’t even sure why. Something to do with the unending sexual frustration no doubt.

“Huh. Okay, let’s show you the difference.” Which is not what Steve meant, at all.“_Pretty_ girls, all wet and sweet like you are right now, pretty girls get kisses and get loved on til they can’t take it anymore,” he says, and he’s pressing his tongue into Steve, making him shiver and moan. “Does that feel good?”

Steve groans in painful frustration. “That’s a stupid question. I need your cock. I don’t want you to blow me, after all. I want you inside me. I can take it now.”

“A sweet little thing like you needs time if you’re going to take my cock. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be careful, sugar. You really are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“But, I—” Bucky spanks him on his hole. Two fingers, gentle, but enough to shut him up for a moment. Steve’s stunned into silence.

“Be a _good_ girl and take what daddy gives you. Don’t be greedy and try to move me along. Just lay there and be sweet like I want. You’re going to be good for me and let me, aren’t you? You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?”

“Daddy,” he repeats, and he’d meant to say it with a sneer or roll his eyes. Like a question. Because, ‘pretty’ and ‘girl’ and even ‘good’ are one thing, but Bucky calling himself ‘daddy’ is _really_ ridiculous. And Steve isn’t going to say it. Because he _knows_ that’s where Bucky wants to take this. Force Steve to call him daddy. After all these years, he knows how Bucky’s mind works.

Which is why he needed to repeat it with derision. Scorn. But, Steve repeated the word daddy like a sigh or like it’s true. Like he _wishes_ it was true. He said it soft. _Fuck_. Steve swallows before he speaks, wanting to make sure he gets his response and tone right. They’re gonna nip this in the bud right now. “I’m _not_ calling you daddy. Ever.”

Bucky goes back to licking him open and driving him mad, completely ignoring Steve’s protest. Like it’s forgotten. Steve comes unexpectedly, out of nowhere, just overwhelmed by the feel of his tongue and the sweet filthiness of it all. Damnit. That’s a little mortifying, he thinks, and puts his hand over his face for a moment. Bucky pauses, two fingers resting on his rim as Steve clenches and releases through it.

“Can I keep going or will that be too much?” he asks, when Steve settles.

“You don’t have to do it again,” Steve says, blushing hard.

“Iknow I don’t _have_ to. I asked you if you could take more. If you want it.”

“I don’t know.” That’s the truth. Bucky kisses him down there all over again and Steve’s cock doesn’t soften at all, even though there is a mess on his stomach. Bucky gets him open, loose and so fucking wet, and then he’s coming again, louder than he ever has in his entire life. “God, please fuck me now. I’m so empty. I need you. Any way you want it. It doesn’t have to be hard. I have to have it now, Bucky.” He’s trembling with how badly he needs it. Bucky slicks his cock up and looms over him.

“You’re open. I’ll go slow, but I think you’ll be okay now. So, do you want to be treated like a pretty girl and we’ll do missionary, or like a good girl and I’ll take you on your hands and knees.”

“I’m _not_ calling you daddy.”

“I haven’t asked you to. You’re the one bringing it up. _Again_. I’ve been very generous, given you two orgasms _and_ eaten you out and now I’m ready to get mine, so how about you be a good girl for me and show me that hole I just worked so hard on.”

“That’s disturbingly sexy,” he mutters. Which makes Bucky laugh and Steve loves that. That’s his life’s fucking mission right there. Bucky swipes up Steve’s come, rubs it all over his cock and Steve blushes. He’s over and ready without hesitation, moans happily when Bucky presses the head into him. “Yes. Fuck, Bucky, that’s so good,” Steve says, as Bucky works his way into him.

“You’re good. Feel perfect inside, baby. God, you’re hot and tight. Clinging to me, welcoming me inside you. I missed you. Missed your perfect bottom clenching me all tight like that.”

“I love you,” Steve says, and presses his face into his forearm.

“I love you, too. You’re everything I want, Steve.”

“Even if I’m not one of your pretty girls?” God, he can feel the back of his neck get warm. If Bucky saw how hard he was blushing he’d never hear the end of it.

“I think we’ve figured out you are a pretty girl. Sometimes. Pretty _and_ good and so fucking sweet. You came on my tongue like a good girl, didn’t you?”

“You really don’t want me to call you daddy?” he asks, almost careful. Bucky puts hands on his shoulders, hauls him back and onto his cock. It’s deep and perfect.

“Are you trying to make me come, sugar? That’s what’s gonna happen if you call me that. I think you better behave, be a good girl and not say it unless you’re willing to take the consequences.”

_Oh._ Steve bites his lip. He throws Bucky a look over his shoulder. Bucky has the nerve to wink at him. “You’re a god damned evil mastermind.”

Bucky gives him wide eyes, as if he’s innocent. “I’m just saying be careful. I know how cautious you are.”

“I’m not _five_. I’m not going to say it because you dare me or bait me or something.” Steve’s utterly mortified by the concept and yet, he feels so soft right now, just wants Bucky to feel half as good as he does. The whole experience is all weird anyway so what’s it matter? “I want you to come. I do. I love you. I want to make you feel good… daddy.”

“There it is,” Bucky growls, and he tightens his grip on Steve’s hips, small, fast little thrusts that hit Steve’s prostate over and over again.

“Fuck. I might come again.”

“Do it. Be quick. God, you’re gonna kill me,” Bucky says, through gritted teeth.

“Help me, _daddy_,” he gasps on a particularly deep thrust.

“Help you.” Steve gets a smack on the ass, and the next thrust to his prostate just about gets him there.

“Yeah, like that.”

“How do I help my pretty girl? How do I get you to come on my cock like I know you can? Come on, sugar. Come for your daddy now, baby,” Bucky says, “Come so I can get mine,” he grits out and that does it. Steve comes, Bucky swears and slams deep, emptying into Steve for long moments. Bucky rides it out, little movements inside Steve to get the last shocks of pleasure, making it last.

“Out or in?”

“In,” he breathes and Bucky drapes himself over Steve, keeps his cock in him while Steve drags Bucky’s arm under his head so he can rest on it. He sighs happily when Bucky kisses his neck.

“I mean it, Steve. You’re amazing. I love how you came apart for me like that.”

“You’re not gonna make fun of me, are you?”

“Hell, no. I liked it and want to hear it again.”

“It’s a stupid thing to say,” he murmurs into Bucky’s arm.

Bucky sighs. He shifts. They’re both sweaty. It’s good. “If you want to really think about it, it’s kind of ridiculous that I like putting my dick in your ass. All of sex is stupid and amazing. You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he says, like he can’t help himself.

“Or your tongue.” He murmurs, burrowing deeper.

“Well, I didn’t try to kiss you after.”

“Huh. That’s true. You could have. I wouldn’t mind,” he confesses. Which makes Bucky hug him. He likes Bucky like this, soft and gentle with him. Maybe he doesn’t want it to end quite yet. “That’s what you do to girls, huh?”

“Stevie,” he says, warningly.

Steve shrugs. Going for casual. It isn’t casual. He could cry. What they usually docompared to what Bucky must do with other people. Girls. “Are you like this with other guys, too?”

“There are no other guys,” he says, flatly.

“We weren’t exclusive. You must have. Were you gentle with them?”

His voice is quiet. He sounds exhausted suddenly. Not physically, but emotionally. “Where do you think this leads? What’s the point?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, because he’s not getting the reaction he expected.

“I’m not going to fuck you because you make me angry. I didn’t like it back then and I certainly don’t like it now. I’m sorry.”

Steve feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart. “Well, that’s honest.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just…. It’s always been you. You are the love of my life. I don’t see how you asking those questions does anything besides cause conflict. I slept with girls a long time ago. I _always_ wanted it to just be you.”

“I know,” he whispers. Bucky had tried. Cancelled dates, stayed home, tried to bring it up. And Steve would deny him. This horrible pissed off tension would build between them, Bucky frustrated and hurt, Steve pissed off because that’s kind of his baseline, and at some point Bucky would go and fuck some girl. He’d come back and Steve would be jealous and beside himself. They’d fight and Steve would get it so damned hard when they made up.

Bucky didn’t make sounds like that, though. Didn’t have that tone in his voice when he fucked Steve as some sort of hurt payback or whatever it was. 

“I was young and stupid. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I guess I’m just trying to understand. What we just did was different. And I…. You liked _that_. More than you like hurting me. You never liked it all that much before, but you’re different now. Less… indulgent? You always did it how I wanted it. I’m just trying to figure out where the change happened.” He kisses Bucky’s arm, forces himself to say what he should have said a long fucking time ago. “And I don’t ever want you to fuck anyone else. Eighty years later and it’s happened, I want to be exclusive. It seemed like it was worth it then. It’s not now.” Steve sighs, shaky. “Maybe you don’t want to be stuck with just me.”

Bucky’s nose presses hard into the side of his neck. “I love you. Of course I want that.”

“Do you want to get rings? Do vows? Some sign?”

There’s a long pause. “First of all, we could get married in New York now. That’s legal. Secondly, maybe more importantly, yeah, I would love that. But, you don’t know everything yet. There isn’t a good time to have this conversation. But, you do deserve to know what happened to my relationship with my Steve. You shouldn’t be stuck with me without knowing. You’re right, I’m different and I’m not as willing to hurt you. Hurting you hurts me and I’m at my limit for hurt.” Bucky sounds choked up now. This is awful. “My Steve left me because I couldn’t hurt him as much as he wanted.”

“How about you just call him Steve?” he says, jealousy burning through him. Then the rest of that sentence sinks in. Steve stiffens in shock. The movement is enough for Bucky to slip out of him, wet and hot between his legs. He moves and Bucky lets him. Steve needs to see his face. “I think I thought he was dead. I was dead.”

“Probably best to stick with he.”

“Bucky, I don’t understand.” He can’t imagine it being like that. Them _ending_. That Steve was the one to walk away.

“He went back to 1946. To see Peggy and… I don’t know. He was in a bad place. He couldn’t make it work with Peggy, or whatever he decided, and he rescued me. In 1946. I was not myself in 1946. I’d been brainwashed and tortured and….”

“No,” Steve whispers, horrified to hear it. Steve’s seen the scars, he’s aware there’s a story there, but it’s pretty clear that he has no fucking idea what Bucky has been through over the decades. 

“Stevie, I’m okay. It was a long time ago now. Don’t cry.”

He tries to swallow the emotion back. “Keep talking then.”

Bucky kisses him first, keeps a hand on Steve’s arm. “So, yeah. He rescued a very dark, fucked up version of me and they’re apparently very happy together.”

Steve kisses him carefully. A promise to not leave him. An apology. Fear. He can’t imagine turning his back on this Bucky. Any Bucky. But, but especially _this_ Bucky. Beautiful and hurt. How did he walk away from Bucky when he’s so clearly sad?

“I’m sorry your Bucky has been taken. That you’ve got me when you’re so much younger and… different.”

“I think I’d have to be pretty fucking different from him if I let you go.”

“Stevie. It wasn’t like that. I’m not blameless. I think it’s my fault. In 2014, I was sent to kill him and I almost did. He gave up. I was one punch away, jut one squeeze of his neck away from killing him and he would have let me. It terrified me. And, I was ashamed and guilty. I could barely look at him, let alone hurt him and make him cry. I did…. I did leave him. To protect him. More than once.”

Steve tries not to withdraw. But, Bucky leaving him, running from him, seems wrong. How could they not have been better together? “What do you mean you left me?”

“_He_ searched for me for two years. I hid. It took me a long time to remember and by the time I did, I couldn’t help but think he was better off without me. I did a lot of awful things.”

“You were brainwashed, right?” Steve demands, interrupting him.

“Yes, but—”

“There is no but. It wasn’t you. I don’t fucking care about anything you were forced to do. I won’t turn my back on you for that. _Ever_. You said you left him more than once. Tell meabout _that._” His voice is shaking. He’s about to explode.

Bucky blows out a breath. “He caught up with me. People were murdered. He was…. A fugitive for me. Almost killed his friends to try and protect me and so I was frozen again. While the scientists made sure I wouldn’t hurt anyone else.” 

“So, that was… that was while they made you better?”

“Yes.”

“Should I be worried you’ll leave me, too?” Steve asks, and let’s Bucky see him cry. See how that would destroy him. Isn’t that what this conversation is all about? If Steve isn’t careful maybe Bucky won’t want him either?

“No, sweetheart. I promise I won’t. This isn’t the same. You’re not the same and I’m not the same with you.” Steve shakes his head, not really understanding what Bucky is saying. 

“Would you stay if you were my daddy?” he asks, voice shaking. “If we always did it like that?”

“Steve, I promise you that isn’t it. I won’t leave you.” 

That isn’t good enough, though. “What did you want from him?” Steve demands. “I need specifics. What would have worked?” What do I do to keep you? he thinks, desperately.

“Don’t think of it like that. It isn’t,” Bucky says, trying to hold him.

“Just fucking tell me,” Steve shouts. He needs to know. Whatever Bucky sees on his face, makes him give in.

“I wanted… this. To not have to hurt him all the time. Not even what we used to do, Steve. More. _Worse._ He wants to be punished for all the mistakes he made. All the people he lost between 2011 and now. He feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he can’t bear it alone. But, he wouldn’t share it, either. Not unless I made him.”

“And you didn’t want to always make him?”

“I couldn’t,” he says, crying. “I promise it wasn’t a matter of _want_. I can’t be what he needs. I don’t want you to bleed for me. I don’t want to make you cry before I fuck you. Or… or choke you out. We tried once, before he went back, and it was… there was no hard enough. It wasn’t one finger, he wanted two. If I’d wanted to flay the skin from his back, I think he might have let me. And… and you know how we do things. It’s always your way. I could already see a future where we wound up there. Me hurting him so fucking badly, being the monster he wanted and… I’ve spent a long fucking time doing things to people I didn’t want to. Hurting them. How do I hurt the person I love the most? Steve, we were both very damaged by the time we got here. It was just too much.”

He swallows but he still can’t speak. Bucky gets out of bed and brings them tissues. “I can’t believe we couldn’t find our way back to each other,” Steve whispers.

“I know. He meant to. He had a mission involving time travel. He went back to 1945 to see Peggy. She wanted to know where the Valkyrie was so he told her. And he decided he didn’t belong in the past. He was going to come back, but he wanted to rescue me first. He’s happy with that Bucky. And he told me they’d gotten you out and that if I didn’t come get you that you’d kill yourself.”

“Yeah, that’s right. If you leave me I’ll kill myself,” he says, flatly.

“Steve. Don’t.”

“No. I’ve told you,” he says, voice low with threat. “And I’ll tell you for the last time. You’re _mine_. I’m…” oh shit, he can’t get the words out, has to swallow the emotion down before he can finish the sentence. “I’m yours. And if you leave me, I’ll kill myself and that will be on you.” 

Bucky goes pale. He nods, grabs Steve and hauls him close. “I know. You are. You’re mine. I won’t let you go. I’m sorry, you deserve better, Steve. You’ll realize it soon enough, but you have me as long as you want me.” And then Bucky is clutching Steve to him and crying into his skin. Bucky sobbing, that’s really not something Steve is equipped to deal with.

“Then I have you forever. Do you promise?” Bucky nods. It isn’t good enough. “No. Look at me. It’s the two of us. Until the end of the line. You won’t leave me. I won’t leave you. If he… if he comes back for you, he can’t have you.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. But, yes, I promise.”

“Look at me while you answer me. Do you… wish I was him?”

Bucky looks. Lets Steve wipe away a tear or twenty. “Stevie. I think I’ll burn in hell for saying it, but no. Every time he looked at me it was there. What I had done. What he wanted and felt like I wouldn’t give him. I think, in a weird way, the fact that I’d almost killed him, had hurt him so badly before, made him less understanding. Because, then he knew I _could_ do it. He knew what it felt like. I’m so fucking glad I never tried to kill you. That you didn’t have to lose anything for me.”

“I can’t imagine having that between us.” It would be awful. Apparently awful enough that Bucky let his Steve go. And, for whatever reason, that Steve didn’t fight to keep Bucky. Didn’t compromise or hell, maybe didn’t even _talk_ to him. Just fucked off to the past to get another Bucky Barnes. “Wait. Are you saying he left you for Peggy or for the other you?”

“I don’t know. He was so angry. He said Peggy, but that may have been just to hurt me. Or just a sign of how messed up he was.”

Bucky’s Steve sounds like a fucked up idiot. Best to keep quiet on that opinion until he can be a bit more tactful. Should he care that his Bucky isn’t available? The Bucky that’s his age and is happily beating the hell out of an older version of himself? Does Steve wish he was confronted by just how much harm he’s caused the man he loves? Newly missing an arm, not knowing who he is.

Steve doesn’t think so. And even if he did find his Bucky, then what happens to this Bucky? He thinks of Bucky calling him Sugar. Of how good the sex had wound be being. How close he felt to him afterwards. The promises they’ve already made to each other. No. This is his Bucky. The handful of experiences they’ve already had together have been so intense and personal to them that he wouldn’t give them up for anything. He pulls Bucky closer, kisses his tears away, both of them making promises with each touch. At least, that’s how it feels to Steve.

“Did you call him ‘pretty’ or ‘good’? Or, you know, _girl_?” When he thinks of how they were before the war, it seemsimpossible. He’d have rolled his eyes, been dismissive of the idea. The truth is, he took Bucky’s love as a given thing. He could use it, stomp on it, bend it and it would stay constant. So he’d believed.

“I never called him _my girl_. He wasn’t ‘my girl’ and he never, ever would have been.What we did would never have happened between him and I. Whatever we do, going forward, that’s us,” he says, carefully.

Steve thinks of what girl meant, that it was soft and gentle and sweet. Focused and protective. Steve will be Bucky’s girl then. A hot swirl of possessiveness consumes him. “Were you… did he call you daddy?”

Bucky chuckles at the idea. Apparently, it’s that unlikely. “No. Definitely not. It wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years. He wouldn’t have liked that at all.”

Steve knows that but he wanted to hear it anyway. “Then he’s a fucking idiot, because I came really fucking hard. And you did, too.” He kind of hates this other Steve.

“Yeah, I did, too,” Bucky says, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. 

“Did you ever call him sugar?”

“No.”

“Then that’s mine, too.”

“It’s weird being jealous of yourself, isn’t it?” Bucky asks, almost contemplatively.

“I don’t think it’s as weird as being in 2023,” he says, suddenly exhausted.

“Oh. My god. I didn’t tell you. They got rid of Polio.”

“Well, that’s good news.”

“There’s less good stuff. But, let’s leave it on a high note.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am liking their dynamic and the feminization/ good girl side of things. Please let me know if you agree :) Comments are validating, yo


	5. Chapter 5

Steve wakes up to the smell of coffee and bacon. He sits up and looks around, more than a little relieved to still be in the future. Bucky fell asleep before him, holding Steve tightly. His arm going slightly lax as he drifted to sleep.

It had given Steve time to think. By the time he’d drifted off he was pretty sure it wasn’t a dream. Bucky was real. 2023 was real. He has the love of his life back. It’s all real.

Thank fuck.

“How did you sleep?” Bucky asks him as he comes out of the bedroom.

“Good. Better than good. I woke up, saw where I was and the relief…. Is that coffee?”

Bucky laughs.“Oh yes. You are back in the world of real coffee, real bacon and my burnt eggs.”

“It’s not complicated, just turn the heat down,” Steve mutters, for the five thousandth time.

“It’s _very_ complicated. That’s why you always made the eggs,” he says, kissing his cheek.

“I think you just didn’t like to cook.”

“Well, I cooked for you this morning so you might want to be a little grateful or you won’t get your half of the bacon.” Bucky looks at Steve’s lips. 

“I want to brush my teeth.”

“There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom drawer.”

“What? Why?” That’s extravagant. How many strangers has Bucky had over that he keeps toothbrushes for them?

“I don’t know. You go to the dentist and they give them to you.”

“They_ give_ them to you, what does that mean?”

“They’re practically free. You get floss and toothpaste, too. You’re in the land of plenty and riches. On one hand, everything is really fucking expensive. On the other hand, things are ridiculously cheap and lots of things are free.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’ll see what I mean.”

Steve takes a sip of his coffee. “It’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, good right?”

Steve shrugs.

“Pfft. Don’t pretend you don’t love it. You have the biggest sweet tooth of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Fine. Yeah, it’s pretty good.” Then he goes to brush his teeth. Sure enough there is a drawer in the bathroom with three unopened toothbrushes and a few little boxes of toothpaste.

He comes back into the room and starts kissing Bucky’s neck, hands roaming his body, slipping inside his pajama pants.

“Oh, you’ll kiss me now?”

“I brushed my teeth. You should be happy.” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “It’s really fucking minty. It’s kind of weird.”

“Don’t you feel clean?”

“I don’t know. I’m drained. I think I’m emotionally hungover. I don’t want to cry and I do want to kiss you. And get fucked. That’s all I have on my list for today. What do we do besides that? Seeing as we won’t be dying in a shitty trench or getting shot at by Nazi’s.”

“Yeah, the good old days,” he says, and kisses Steve back.

“You brushed your teeth too, why are you giving me a hard time?”

“I wasn’t giving you a hard time. I was making a comment. You’re very sassy this morning.”

“It’s not sassy, I’m hungry and I want to go back to bed. Want you to fuck my brains out,” he says, cupping Bucky’s cock through his clothing. “Well, I want you to prove you want me.” Isn’t that the same thing? “Out of curiosity, did you ever call him boy? Like good boy or something?” Because he may have been pondering a bit after Bucky fell asleep.

“You mean, like a dog?”

Steve pokes him in the stomach. “No, like ‘good girl’ but ‘boy’.”

“No. Why? Should I call you a good boy?”

“It’s not the same. Do you want me to call you mommy?”

“That’s disturbing. No.”

“Exactly. It would be different. I’m just trying to figure it all out.” So you don’t leave me, he doesn’t say, although he’s pretty sure Bucky knows. And, the truth is, he’s more than sassy, he’s uncertain and insecure and starving. He’s so emotionally drained he just feels flat. And he’s only just been defrosted. Oh. And the war is over and everyone they knew who didn’t fucking die is now dead of old age.

“Do you know I’ve only been defrosted for 24 hours? Maybe less than 24 hours.” He has zero concept of time at the moment. 

“Really?” Bucky frowns, doing the math.

“Don’t hurt yourself, champ.”

“Ha ha,” Bucky says, smiling at Steve like a dope.

There are lines around Bucky’s eyes when he smiles. He’s gorgeous. Unbearably gorgeous. Steve puts his hands on his waist, touching him. Definitely getting hard.

“I’m hungry. I thought you were going to feed me?” Steve pouts.

“It’s been 45 seconds.”

“Technically it’s been many years, decades, _and_ 45 seconds.”

Bucky kisses him on the nose and turns back towards the food. “Anyway. You wake up?”

“Oh. I woke up and all these people are standing around me. They got me cleaned up, gave me a haircut— no I’m serious, they literally sat me down and gave me a haircut, because that’s apparently important— and then Peggy came in, people started offering me jobs— hers, apparently. She was really pissed. I think her friend Angie is in love with her.”

Bucky looks at him with a ‘no shit?’ sort of expression. Steve shrugs. That’s what it looked like to him. “And then they took me to that apartment. A fucking haircut. Maybe it shouldn’t have been so annoying, but I wasn’t a person. I was a prop. Clothes and a haircut and… and no you.”

Steve reaches past him and eats a piece of bacon, pretty sure he’ll just burst into tears again if he looks him in the eye. There is no point to being alive without Bucky. He takes another sip of Bucky’s coffee and sticks his hand back down Bucky’s pants, cupping his balls and then his cock. “I want to blow you.”

Bucky looks at the bacon in Steve’s hand. “That’s some pretty serious multi-tasking, but fuck, don’t let me stop you.”

Steve takes his hand out. He sighs. “Yeah, I’ll eat and then blow you.”

Bucky groans in disappointment, pulls Steve closer. Steve likes that a lot. He makes a sound, instinctive approval. He needs Bucky to want him.

“What if I can’t wait that long?” Bucky says, pressing in closer. He slides his hand over Steve’s ass, cups him between the cheeks, pressing his fingers against his hole. “What if I need you?”

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds fucking desperate but there it is. “Fuck. I might fall down. Do it. I don’t need to eat. I can’t believe you have this house to yourself. It’s so fucking quiet,” he says, bending over the counter.

There’s a knock on the door. “Who the _fuck_ is that?” Steve demands, pushing himself back up. He’s unreasonably angry about being disturbed.

Bucky picks up a small black thing, presses a button. The time appears. “It’s 10. It’s probably Sam. I should have texted him. Shit, let the explanations begin. Just so you know, the oldyou had toned down the swearing a fair amount.”

“Fuck if that’s my fucking problem. Who the fuck is Sam?”

“Great,” Bucky mutters, and heads to the door.

Steve is right behind him, holding onto his t-shirt, still with the I’m-not-letting-you-out -of-my-sight thing consuming him. Bucky opens the door and two people stand there. 

“Cap. It’s Cap! Cap’s back,” a smiling man with dark hair says. The other man, African-American, peers around Bucky, looks Steve up and down. “What are you cradle robbing or something?”

“Steve, these are yourfriends,” Bucky says, and moves to let them in.

“We’re your friends, too,” the African-American man says.

“Yeah, I was building up to that.”

“Very funny,” he says, and comes in. He introduces himself to Steve. His name is Sam. The other man is called Scott and as he introduces himself he says a few mildly embarrassing things about how young and good looking Steve is, which, he’s actually kind of happy about. He hopes he’s more attractive than… himself.

“Sorry, I can’t go for a run today. We just got here. Think we’ll need a few days to decompress.”

“A few days? So, he’s staying?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking staying,” Steve says, taking a step closer so he’s actually pressed against Bucky’s shoulder.

Sam puts his hands up in surrender. “Hey. I’m thrilled you’re here,” he says, and gives Bucky wide eyes.

Bucky frowns at Steve.

Sam watches as Steve puts his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, possessive. “Can we talk outside for a minute?” Sam asks.

Bucky gives Steve a look that promises he’ll be right back and goes outside. Steve presses his ear to the door. It’s muffled and gets quieter. Sam asks what Steve’s problem is. Steve can’t hear Bucky’s response.

Bucky comes back in a minute later and Steve is sitting on the ground, back against the wall, breathing uneven, but it shouldn’t be noticeable. “Are you okay?” Bucky asks, getting down on his knees beside him.

“Yeah. Just… this is different. It just hadn’t quite registered. But, I look out the window or around your home and it’s… it’s a lot. The people. The stuff. The um, whole life you’ve built without me. Or, that you had with him.”

“Right. Well, I didn’t have a whole life with him. It wasn’t like this was our house or something.It’s another long story.”

“Well, I’m clearly very busy at the moment, what with the panicking on the floor. So you’ll have to tell me later.”

“Right. Um, there was this alien who fucked up the universe and I was dead for five years. Half the world was. Sam was. Scott wasn’t. Steve wasn’t.”

Steve should ask more questions. He’s not sure he has it in him. God, it’s quiet. “I know you’re serious. But, it sounds made up.”

“I wish it was. I only just finished painting a few days ago. You didn’t miss out on anything. I’m not sure he and I ever had anything that one would count as good since… well, since I last saw you in 44. I promise. Come eat breakfast,” he says, standing up.

Steve gets up. Bucky kisses him again. “I know it’s intimidating, but there are a lot of people who would be happy to help you get up to date on things. We can go to museums, we’ll get books and see movies. I promise you that you can be happy here.” He seems convinced.

“I’m fine if I have you.”

“And you do.”

“Would there be radio programs?” The idea of snuggling up on the couch together and listening to radio programs sounds pretty amazing.

“Not really. Not like… everything is on tv now.” Bucky winces. “How about this? We’ll plan on staying in, we can watch tv and you can ask questions as they come up, we’ll go for a walk, have lunch, see how the day goes.”

“Sure.” He didn’t mention sex. “Does it bother you that I’m younger? That we don’t have life history or shared experiences? You know, I don’t know you or your friends.” His chest gets tight and his breathing is suddenly shallow, and then it’s hard to draw in a breath at all. Shit. He’s having a fucking panic attack. Bucky takes Steve’s hand and puts it on his chest, tells him to slow down, to take breaths, to just do what he does. Bucky is his anchor. Always has been.

Now he’s older, tired. His eyes just look so fucking _sad_. Where is his laughing Bucky? Who might sing along to a song or demand Steve dance in the living room? Who could turn on the positive attitude, even after Zola, and keep them all together? How could this other version of Steve Rogers have fucked it up so badly?

He and Bucky were both in charge of the Commandos. Steve was a figurehead and he charged in and got stuff done, but Bucky was morale and common sense. He was the one they relied upon. All of them. He’d be the one to get them extra rations and new socks. Everyone knew Bucky could find a way to get ammo or smokes, anything anyone needed. If someone was unsteady, they found their way to Bucky. He had an aura around him, like somehow one would be safe. The bullets would land elsewhere, the shells would be duds, that kind of thing.

When Steve’s breathing settles, Bucky runs a hand through his hair, kisses him on the forehead, gives him a smile. “You’re always so patient.”

“Uh oh. Is it making you crazy, already?”

“No. I like it.”

Bucky seems to find that amusing. “I like you,” he says, pressing his mouth to Steve’s.

As soon as Bucky draws back, Steve has a question. “Why did he look at you like that? I think he likes you.”

Bucky laughs at that. “Which one? Actually, it doesn’t matter. I can promise you that _no one_ has any interest in me whatsoever. And they are your friends.”

“Maybe I won’t be their friend,” he says, pissed off. Unsteady. Weak. Why can’t they be back in their old apartment in Brooklyn? Why can’t they be together in some European shit hole stinking of death and fear, but together?

“Okay,” Bucky says, coddling him. “Maybe you won’t. But, they’re both nice guys, and they both broke the law to help Steve save me. They’re big fans of Steve Rogers. Well, more so before he left. The fact that you want to stay will make them very happy.”

Steve glares at him. “Are you trying to trick me or something?”

“No. How? I’m serious. Give them a chance.”

Oh, great. So now he’s an asshole, too. Steve can’t win. It’s like he’s wandered into a play halfway through and he doesn’t know anything, not even what play it is, but everyone expects him to. That jittery sense of panic is still there. “They’re going to expect me to be him. Like you do. What if I’m not? What if you don’t want me, either?”

“Stop. I don’t want you to be him. I want you.”

“Why? I’m falling apart.” He tries to walk away from Bucky, but he’s got one hand in Bucky’s shirt and he can’t quite bring himself to let go of him. “Couldn’t I… couldn’t I still wake up and you’ll be gone? And, even ifyou’re real… what if he comes back? What if you decide you can’t be with me, either?” Whatever happened last night may as well have been a million years ago. Why is it so fucking quiet in this house?

“No. No, you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. This is it. Me and you. We’re gonna make this work,” he says, like a vow. He grabs Steve’s wrist, tries to pull him closer.

Steve is pretty sure that if he moves, at all, he’s just going to break apart.

“Okay. Okay, babydoll. I’ll come to you. Come on,” he says, moving in close. His arm goes around Steve’s lower back, his lips find Steve’s, pressing carefully and then a little more demanding. “Let me take care of you. That’s what I need, sweetheart. Can you do that for me? Can you hold onto me?”

Steve nods, wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck. It’s a fucking relief. “Whatever you want, daddy.” Steve knows he’s blushing, but this daddy bullshit is his and he’s keeping it. Someone has to be the first one to say it.

“Up then, come on, sugar” he says, and he hauls him up, Steve wrapping his legs around his waist. He’s too big for this, but fuck it. This is exactly what Steve needs. He clings and lets Bucky carry him to the kitchen. Bucky sets him on the counter next to the pan of eggs and the plate of bacon.

Bucky kisses his mouth softly. “Here’s what I want,” he says, and breaks off a piece of bacon. “I know you don’t like it, that it makes you feel weak and helpless. But, if you want to make me happy then this is what you’re going to let me do.” 

Steve opens his mouth and lets Bucky feed him. He chews and swallows. “I’m hungry,” he whispers, looking Bucky in the eye. Yeah, he will let Bucky treat him like a fucking invalid.

The look on Bucky’s face, almost shock, is quickly wiped away. Bucky blushes, gives Steve another bite of bacon and eats some himself. Bucky stands between his legs, close and attentive.

When the bacon is gone, he hesitates. Bacon is one thing, feeding him with a fork is another. This is the sort of thing that would have gotten him a black eye or a cursing out for his troubles back in the day. “Are you still hungry?” Bucky asks, uncertain.

“I am. Feed me the eggs,” Steve says, almost challenging.

One corner of Bucky’smouth quirks up in a smile. “I’ll get a fork,” he says, and he starts to turn away. Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s, not wanting Bucky to stop touching him. Bucky kisses him on the mouth. “Okay. Yeah.”

Bucky goes to the drawer and gets a fork, managing to keep a hand on Steve’s thigh the entire time. Steve reaches for him when he’s close again, hand in his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Soft and careful.

Bucky pulls back, looking at Steve in a slightly guarded way. It’s just too different from how they’ve always done things. Too gentle and nauseatingly sweet. Bucky gets a forkful of scrambled eggs and offers it to Steve.

Steve opens his mouth, eats the food, leans forward so he can duck his face against Bucky’s neck while he chews. Bucky alternates bites between them and somehow they get closer and closer as it goes on. Bucky’s hand winds up around Steve’s lower back, Steve’s hands are in his shirt, holding onto him. He’s managed to get his foot hooked over the back of Bucky’s thigh, keeping him against the counter. He eats everything Bucky gives him. There’s a glass of orange juice on the counter. Bucky eyes it almost warily.

“Do it. I’m thirsty,” Steve says, practically an order.

Bucky picks up the glass and presses it to Steve’s lips. Steve swallows carefully, eyes on Bucky as he drinks it all. Bucky puts the glass down. There’s a drip of it at the corner of Steve’s mouth, sliding down his jaw. He grabs the kitchen cloth and hands it to Bucky, turns his head so Bucky can dab it away.

He feels almost smug with how much he’s letting Bucky do. Watch him not be the same as he was. Watch him put Bucky and his needs first for once in his fucking life. Fuck you, other Steve Rogers, he thinks.

It’s a soft press of cloth and then Bucky’s lips are back on his. So fucking careful. WhenBucky pulls back, his eyes are wet. Steve kisses his cheeks, waits a moment, patient and willing Bucky to have some idea of just how much he loves him. Bucky blinks and the tears fall and Steve kisses them away with a little sound.

“I know, baby,” Steve whispers, voice rough. All the times he fought against every bit of kindness. All the resentment he had because Bucky was so strong and perfect, so healthy and beautiful. How much he challenged him, wanted to be just as strong, prove himself, the fights they had because he couldn’t give an inch and that was all Bucky wanted.

Their relationship had always been defined by Steve’s stubbornness. Bucky was the one who found him in alleys and saved his ass. Bucky was the one who forced his way to Steve’s bedside and cajoled him to stay alive. Bucky was always the one to give and bend, trying to find a way in and get Steve to accept his help. Be it a place to live or sympathy. Every inch was hard fought.

All of it was so stupid. Steve knows that was important to him before. To his sense of self, and that it was offensive to have everyone think he was such a waste of space. He’d hated the coddling, been so resentful. When they’d had sex it had been worse. It had to be on Steve’s terms. Had to hurt and be some kind of contest. Looking back on it now, how they used to be, how much Bucky gave him, how difficult Steve was, it’s like a ghost between them.

Bucky’s still waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him. For Steve to shove him away or demand it hurt. It never occurred to him that it hurt Bucky to hurt him. The horrible truth was that he hadn’t wanted to look that deeply.

He doesn’t want to hurt Bucky anymore. Their past is a weight that can drowned them.

“I want to start over,” Steve whispers. “I want to be this way with you. You’re my daddy. I wanna be your good girl.” 

Bucky makes a sound, it’s supposed to be a laugh, but he’s too emotional. “I know this is a lot and that you’re… _relieved_ to have me back. But, it would be worse for me if you made all these promises and changed your mind.”

“Near death experiences change people. We saw it all the time. This is the right thing to do for us, and it’s what I want. It won’t always be easy for me, but I have to do this. For us. For me. I promise, daddy.”

He grabs Steve’s hand, puts it over his heart. It’s beating fast. “It’s terrifying to get what one wants.”

“It’s worse to lose it,” Steve says, kissing away another tear. “I spent a long time trying to prove to myself that I could be strong and right. The truth is, I can’t be either of those things if I don’t have you. You don’t know me, baby,” Steve says, roughly, voice low and certain. “I don’t know you. But, I can be so good to you, if you let me,” he whispers, touching Bucky’s chest. Because this was something he always ignored that Bucky quite liked. Having his nipples played with. “I can be your good girl.”

It always made Bucky horny but gentle. Almost lazy. Which did not get Steve fucked into the middle of next week. It still works, Bucky’s eyes sliding shut, his grip loosening as he runs his hands up and down Steve’s arms and his back. Steve slips his hands under Bucky’s shirt, strokes softly over his chest. Bucky shivers, drags him to the edge of the counter and grinds his cock into Steve’s taint and balls. “Not everything has to be different,” Bucky says.

“Like what?” Steve whispers.

“Do you want to try again? Have me fuck you hard?”

Steve drags in a breath. “I don’t know.”

“Why? What don’t you know?” Bucky asks, kissing his neck. He presses his chest against Steve’s hand, gasping when Steve pinches his nipple hard.

“Could you do it like I was one of your girls? I want to know what that would be like.”

Bucky laughs, pulls back to look at him. “What? You want me to fuck you careful andmissionary or—”

“Wait. I know what I want,” Steve says. “Remember that time we went to the movies and Mickey Paloozo was trying to get Agatha Jones to give him a hand job in the back of the theater?”

“Umm, no.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says, before Steve can dwell on the horrible reminder of how much Bucky has lost. “How about you tell me about it?”

“Well, he really wanted it. She kept saying she was a good girl and she just couldn’t do something like that where someone might see. He… um… he didn’t want to take no for an answer. He wasn’t mean about it, just insistent. You know, that kind of talk.”

Bucky looks at Steve long enough that Steve blushes. “Nah, let’s assume I don’t know. Give me some examples.”

“Just standard stuff guys say, that they just like them so much and want to be close to them. How good it will feel for him and how he’ll make it good for her. Uh, yeah, so I started to get annoyed and was gonna say something and you said she wasn’t a good girl, she always did that sort of thing, and sure enough she was jerking him off five minutes later. She got him off three times during thatmovie.”

“What was the movie?” Bucky asks, as if it really matters.

Steve smacks him on the arm. “I’m not going to play with your nipples anymore if you keep sassing me.”

“That’s a big threat. I love it when you touch me there,” he whispers, kissing Steve behind the ear. Which is something Steve really likes.

“I know. I was such a fucking asshole, though. If I did it too long you went all soft and gooey and didn’t want to fuck me hard.”

He pulls back, brows raised. “Really? That’s why you never did it? Huh.”

Steve shrugs, a little guilty. “Yeah.” Bucky laughs. It’s not the reaction he expected. “What’s funny?”

“There’s a thing or two I didn’t do for the same reason. You liked it too much and then I really had to hurt you.”

Steve feels himself blushing. “Bullshit. Tell me.”

“How about this? You play with my nipples, I’ll do what you like, and we’ll see how it goes?”

“I think you’re making it up. Tell me what I like so much.” He pinches Bucky’s nipple.

“Ow! I thought you were going to be nice to me? My good girl?”He goes back to Steve’s neck and presses his teeth into his skin.

“Oh. Fuck. I do like the biting,” Steve says, grinding his cock into Bucky’s stomach.

“It isn’t the biting,” he says, and then Bucky’s holding him by the ass and carrying him to the bedroom.

“What is it then?”

Bucky laughs. “Do you want to guess?”

“No, I think you’re fucking making it up.”

Bucky stops near the bedroom, pressing him against the wall. Which is, yeah, that makes him want to get fucked. “Well, yeah, who doesn’t like getting pressed up against the wall?”

“Steve! This isn’t it!” he says, laughing. He’s going to remember the sound of Bucky laughing for the rest of his life. God, it makes everything good.

“Do it already. You’re fucking making it up. I like everything. I take it all back, I’m clearly a lot more well-adjusted then I’ve been given credit for,” he says, joking, but a little bit pouty because Bucky might try to cajole him into a smile.

“No, wait. Okay, Ready?” He opens his mouth to say something and starts laughing. “Sorry. Sorry. Oh, that’s really funny.”

“You’re a dick,” Steve says. “Is it you being an asshole to me? I have news for you, it’s not hot.” He could see how it could be, though. 

“No. Shut up. Just kiss me for a minute. Let me get myself together here,” Steve grunts in frustration and kisses Bucky, tense and waiting to know what the thing is. He can’t even guess. Apparently, everything makes him want Bucky to fuck him.

Bucky adjusts his grip, his heavy cock pressing hard against Steve. Steve gasps in pleasure. “God, I need you to fuck me. Do you want me, daddy?”

“I’m so fucking _hard_ for you, Steve,” he says, voice low with lust. “I’m going to pump you full of come, sweetheart. You think if I get deep enough I can knock you up? Keep you home and you can have my babies? Will you let me fuck you full, baby? Over and over again. You won’t even get lube, Steve. Just my come. Sopping out of your hole. You’re gonna feel me in your stomach, Steve. You’re going to drip my come for days.”

“_Fuck_. That’s, okay, yeah, I do vaguely remember that.”

Bucky dumps him on the bed and pulls Steve’s pants off, climbing on top of him. “Vaguely? _Vaguely?_ Well, let’s make sure you remember. Let’s get you a belly and an ass full of come so you’ll remember, won’t you honey? Get that ass in the air so I can breed my good girl.” Steve is in a mild state of shock from how sexy Bucky suddenly is, doesn’t realize he’s got a hand on himself, jerking himself and close to coming, until Bucky grabs his hand and puts it on his pec. “This is a two-way street, sweetheart.”

Steve laughs. And pets Bucky’s chest, knows he’s doing a good job when Bucky’s weight settles on him more heavily and his head drops, grinding into Steve, slow and dirty. “Keep doing that. God, I have to fuck you now, sugar. Is that okay?”

He grabs the slick from the nightstand, puts a blot of it between Steve’s legs and presses a finger into Steve. Steve pinches his nipple in appreciation and Bucky fucks his finger in deep, screwing into him. “God, how about two, Steve? Can we do two now?”

“I don’t know, I’m a little tight, daddy,” he says, nipping Bucky’s bottom lip.

Bucky hesitates for a moment. No doubt because Steve has never once in his life complained about being too tight for one finger. “I’ll get my good girl loosened up, make sure you can take my cock without it hurting too badly in that sweet puss of yours.”

“Bucky!” he says, genuinely scandalized. “No, don’t stop, I want to _try_ to take two.”

“Okay, babydoll. Let’s try. I think you can do it. I think you just need to relax a little. Let yourself enjoy it. You’ll feel so good with my cock in you, I promise.”

“But, daddy. You’re so big. You won’t hurt me, will you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t hurt my best girl. There you go, two now. Nice and easy. Just what I thought, loosening up so fast. Look at you swallowing them up so sweet. Let me get you a little more wet, baby and then you can have three. It’s going to feel so good. Do you want to ask me nicely for it?”

Another cool glob of lube and then three fingers are pressing into him. He whimpers and arches into it. “Daddy. It’s a lot. I don’t think I can do it,” he whispers. 

“You’re okay. Look how good you are. You take that for daddy. Don’t you want my come, filling you up, making you all warm inside?”

“Fuck. I’m going to come before you get in me if you don’t shut up.”

“Go ahead, sugar. Good girls get to come whenever they need to. You won’t put me off, though. I’ll still be expecting you to let me get mine.”

“Yeah? I want you to come in me, daddy. Don’t want you to wait anymore. I need your come. I can do it. Please? Don’t you want me to try, um, try and take it?”

“What a good girl you are. So lovely, let’s get my big cock in that tiny little hole of yours and give you what you need.”

“No, you. What _you_ need,” Steve clarifies, “I’m reluctant, you’re trying to breed me. Fuck, that’s so sexy.” 

“Don’t break character. And stop slacking off on the nipples.”

“They’re going to be sore tomorrow if I keep going.”

Bucky looks at him in disbelief. “_You_ are going to lecture _me_ about being _sore_?”

“Well, I—” Bucky’s notching the head of his cock at Steve’s entrance.

“Spread those legs and let daddy in, babydoll.”

“Daddy?” he asks, legs open wide, tilting up in invitation. “Oh!” he shouts as Bucky presses the head in with a heavy thrust, his hand still there, forcing his cock in deeper. It shouldn’t be surprising. It should be easy with all the care Bucky has taken with him. This is the part he likes. The burn and stretch, where it steals his breath and he…. Steve makes a sound, tears come to his eyes. “Daddy?” Fuck. Is it the word that makes everything different? 

“Easy, sweetheart. I’m in. Have a pause. Just a second to get yourself together. Let daddy kiss you,” he says, and he’s soft and gentle. Each kiss is a promise. “What a good girl you are. So sweet. You feel so good. Make me so hard. I want to fill you up with come. Want you to have my baby. Can I move now? I can’t wait anymore. I want you too much. Be a good girl and relax.” Bucky groans as he inches forward, forcing Steve open.

Steve shakes under him, little mewling sounds. “Daddy? Daddy?”

“That’s right. Look at you, letting me. How good you are. How perfect. This is what I need. I’m gonna come so deep in you, Sugar. I should plug you up, sweetheart. Let you keep all that cream inside you.”

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he says, his cock rubbing against Bucky’s stomach, the head of his cock, passing over his prostate and the things Bucky is saying are all making this too much for him to stand. 

“Good girl. Clench that pussy on my cock. Milk it, sweetheart. Don’t you want it?”Steve comes, hands raking down Bucky’s back. Steve gasps under him and Bucky readjusts, shoves Steve’s legs back over his arms so he can get deeper, watch himself move in and out of him as he chases his own orgasm.

“There. Do you feel better? Say thank you.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Steve says,sounding sincere. “You take such good care of me. Make me feel special.”

“You are special. My special girl. Letting me in that tight pussy of yours. God, I’m going to come.”

“Deep?”

“That’s right, angel. Do you want my baby?”

“Daddy,” he whispers, and looks away. Back to crying again over a stupid question. Bucky isn’t seriously asking him. It shouldn’t be any different than anything else they’ve said but somehow it hits personal.

“Oh, Stevie. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Kiss me?”

Steve hauls him down, kisses him with so much lust and love that Bucky comes deep in him, slamming home to get those last few spurts as deep as possible. “You’re so good, sweetheart. God, what a good girl you are for me.”

Yeah, he is. Fuck you Other Steve Rogers, he thinks and offers his mouth for another kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

“The internet doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Steve says, for the fourth time that day.

“I know, baby. I know,” he says, checking out the surrounding restaurants to find somewhere for dinner. They’d watched TV, had lunch, had sex again, Bucky had explained as much as he possibly could about the future, and then they’d gotten cabin fever and decided to see the world for a bit instead.

So far, Steve is appalled by how informal everything is. The hairstyles and the lack of ties, all the bright advertisements everywhere that require a very large number of almost naked women and men in nice suits.

“I think Wanda said there was a good place around here for pizza.”

“I like pizza.”

Bucky texts her and his phone rings a moment later. Bucky swears, it sounds like Russian. It reminds him that Bucky has lived a huge, tortured life without him. He holds out his hand and Bucky takes it absently as he answers the phone.

“I’m sorry, Wanda. He’s not up for it yet.”

“But, I’m making steak and baked potatoes. And there’s cabbage cooked in bacon fat.”

Bucky is looking at Steve, realizes Steve can hear her. Steve puts a hand on his stomach. Well, that is basically the best meal ever, he thinks. If anyone asked him his dream meal it’d be steak. With potatoes. And his ma had made a hell of a lot of cabbage back in the day. And if they were able to get some fatty bacon, well, yeah. Perfect meal.

“You’re a vegetarian,” Bucky says.

“I relapsed. _Tell him_ I have vanilla ice cream with hot fudge sauce and _bananas_,” she says, with all the intensity of a hostage negotiation.

“Wanda,” Bucky says, imploringly. Steve looks away from Bucky, undecided. It’s kind of adorable that she’s listing off stuff he loves. That she knows Steve that well and is trying to lure him over.

“Tell him you both think I remind you of Becca.”

“That’s playing dirty. We just got here last night. Sam and Scott both got kicked out.”

“Yeah, but that’s _them_. I mean, I miss Steve, too,” she says, and Bucky’s hand clenches on his in a way that lets Steve know this is a big deal. That Wanda is not just important to the both of them, but that she needs Steve. Even if she doesn’t know him. Isn’t that how he feels about Bucky? 

“Let’s go,” Steve says. Bucky looks at him with a raised brow.

“I heard that! See you in 45 minutes. I have to go to the store first. Also, bring wine,” she says, and hangs up.

Bucky puts the phone back in his pocket. “Well, you’re in for it now.”

“Do you not want to go?”

“No, I want to go. We love Wanda. She took Steve’s leaving really hard. She lost her family, had no one before she was 20,and he really stepped in. I think they were both kind of alone at the right time. They were really close. Both had to discover how to live in this world without the people they loved. They trained together a lot, and she’s definitely got a lot of Becca in her. She’d love the chance to be your friend. As you can tell.”

“That’s why I said yes,” Steve says. 

“You said yes for the steak and the fudge sauce,” Bucky says, but he has a pleased smile on his face, like Steve has done the right thing, so Steve hauls him closer, hand in his jacket and offers his mouth. 

“That didn’t hurt,” he says, and Bucky kisses him for long enough that it’s either pull away or find a bathroom to get off in. Steve groans and rests his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I just want you all the time. I love being next to you, all off it.”

“Yeah, I know. I feel the same way.”

“How long has he been in the past?”

“Um, well, it was a couple of months and then he showed up to tell me about you.”

“And… what was that like? The two months?”

“It was great. I had a really good time,” he says, sarcastically. “You know how it was. It was awful.”

“But, you didn’t keep him. I know you said you tried to have sex once and it was bad, but, what does that mean? I can’t imagine.”

Bucky puts his hand on Steve’s back and starts walking, angled in such a way that his prosthetic arm isbetween them both and whatever threat Bucky thinks he’s seen. It’s typically just people with cameras. Bucky really doesn’t like cameras and he doesn’t like people taking pictures of Steve.

“You want to know what it was like the last time I tried to fuck future you and why it was horrible? I can’t imagine that’s a good thing to discuss. Ever.”

Yeah. He definitely has some reservations about asking, but he’s also horribly curious. “Maybe it would help me… avoid stuff?”

“That’s not… I don’t think that’s relevant to what happened. It was just a suggestion made and then there was a fight and I wasn’t in a good place and I shut down and that was bad. Me shutting down, I guess, that’s something you need to know,” he says, but then doesn’t say anything else.

“Do you want to tell me now?” He finally prompts.

“Uh, no. I want to tell you never. But, it might be scary if it happens and I haven’t told you. It feels like sometimes I just disappear. Not quite catatonic, maybe catatonic. But,it’s like sleep too. And it can happen fairly suddenly. I go blank, nothing registers, emotionally. And then usually I can’t feel my arm. It’s kind of a sign that shit isn’t going well. If you see me flexing my hand and looking at it like I’m really confused, you should just let me be. I’ll come out of it. Sometimes, it takes awhile. And maybe this is why it’s good to get to know Wanda and Sam, if it happens, you should have somewhere else you can go, so you’re not stuck with me.”

Steve stops walking. “Wait. No. That sounds like I should be there even more.”

“There’s no point. I won’t really engage with you and it would be best for me if you didn’t engage with me. I don’t want to say or do something I regret later.”

“Like what?” he asks.

Bucky exhales. He stops and pulls them to the side. “It would honestly be best if you left it alone. You don’t want to know. I promise. And I won’t make the same mistake with you.”

“Is it emotional or physical? Did you hurt me or something?”

“No, baby. No. The triggers are gone. That wasn’t it.”

“But,” His voice is hesitant, “I want to get it right. I don’t want there to be the same mistakes. The same problems. You should tell me.”

“Can I think about it?” Bucky pulls him into a hug, kisses his jaw and his lips, holds them tight together. “Can you give me some time?”

Steve nods. “I love you, daddy.”

Bucky’s eyes fill with tears and he laughs. “Oh, my god. What a disaster. How am I supposed to deny you anything? Fuck.”

Steve thinks the angle is pretty hidden so he slides a hand down Bucky’s body, cupping his cock in his hand. Bucky grabs his hand. “Yeah, it’s that, of course. But, it’s more than that. You’re so open. Vulnerable or something. I want to hold you on my lap and kiss you. And fuck you.” 

“I think I like all of those things.”

By the time they get to Wanda’s, Steve’s nerves are kicking in. This may have been a bad idea. He doesn’t know her. She doesn’t know him. “Hey. It’s going to be fine.”

“What?”

“You’re doing the nervous and twitchy thing,” he says. “You look like a spaz.”

“Shut up.”

Bucky knockson the door. Wanda opens it. “What’s gone wrong?” Bucky demands. The young woman in front of them is stunning. Her long red hair and willowy frame. But, she looks like someone kicked her puppy.

“I don’t know howto cook a fucking steak. It’s this charred black thing.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve says, “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I was eating two days ago.”

“Two days ago?”

“Yeah, you know, 1945.”

Wanda blinks, looks him up and down. Her lip gets a little wobbly. “Hi Steve, I’m Wanda, nice to meet you,” she says, holding out a hand. Steve shakes her hand and wonders if he should have hugged her. He doesn’t know. He’s not really used to having girls as friends. Isn’t a hug presumptuous?

Bucky hugs her. He makes it look easy. “It’s going to be fine. You know he only cares about the fudge sauce anyway.”

“I’m a nice person. The other you liked me,” she says, and shrugs. “So, come in?” 

“I’m sure you’re great,” Steve says.

“_Now_ it’s awkward,” Bucky says. “Okay, show us the steak. Put on that stupid album you both like and I’ll see what I can do.”

“You?” Steve demands. “What the hell can you do? You can’t even cook fucking eggs. You’re not going to salvage this situation, you’ll fucking kill us all.”

Wanda blinks and looks at Bucky. “Well, fucking-a. He does swear more.”

They go into her apartment. There’s a tray of very charred meat on the counter. “You high broil these bastards?”Steve asks.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You never do that.”

“We watched an episode of Kitchen Nightmares today and now he thinks he knows everything.”

“I don’t know _everything_. I just know more than you. Go get us more steaks,” Steve says, looking around the kitchen. Wanda is giving Steve some serious puppy dog eyes. Bucky moves in and gives Steve a kiss which Steve returns enthusiastically. 

“Okay. I’ll go get steaks,” Bucky says, proud of him for stepping up. Wanda gives him a thumbs up. Bucky goes out to get steaks, taking his time so they can get acquainted and runs into Sam and Scott standing outside Wanda’s building.

“Are you kidding?”

“She said she’d text if we could go up. Why are you out out here?”

“She burned the steaks.” He holds up the bag.

Scott sighs. “I told her to let us help. The universe believes in karma.”

“Fuck, I hope not,” Bucky says.

Sam smacks him on the arm. “What’s he like? How is it going?”

Bucky tries to think of the answer to that question. He thinks of how sweet Steve has been. How needy and willingly vulnerable.

“That good, huh?”

“What?” Bucky asks, defensively.

“Idon’t want details. Whatever you’re thinking right now, I don’t need to know. I’mglad it’s going well.”

“Well, yeah. Personally, it’s going fantastic.He is so light and happy compared to how he was by the end. He has so much energy and isn’t like this black hole waiting for the world to fucking end.”

“That’s harsh,” Scott says. Sam gives Scott a look. “I’m not saying he’s wrong. But, it is harsh.”

“You think I can get him to go to the VA?” Sam asks.

Bucky thinks about it. “Yeah, I do. I think ifyou tell him it took you years to get Steve to go, that he’ll go instantly. He’s quite set on proving that the other Steve is a dick.”

“So, is that like really evolved or a sign of having massive issues and self-loathing?” Scott asks.

“I think it’s trying to be evolved. He’s just afraid to lose me.”

“Well, that’s every version of Steve Rogers ever,” Sam says.

“Right. I’m going to take the steaks up.”

They both give him a look. He shrugs. “I don’t know what you got going on with the creepy stalker thing. Loiter away or go home, but it’s not my place to bring you up. If it doesn’t work out tonight, we’ll have you over in a few days. He’s just getting settled.”

They grumble.

“I don’t have steak for 5, you know.”

“Fine. Two days,” Sam says. “Come on, Scott.”

“So, we’re just going to go? And do what? You want to play pool or something?”

“Sure.”

Bucky goes back up and Steve and Wanda are sitting on the couch chatting. Steve laughs at something she says and he feels like backing away, letting them have this moment. Steve needs to feel anchored to this time. He needs his social circle to expand beyond Bucky. And his dick.

He takes the steaks into the kitchen and Steve meets his gaze, visibly relaxes now that he’s back. “See, perfectly fine,” Wanda whispers, sounding fond.

“Hey. I told the fan club to go home. We’ll have them over in a few days.”

“Oh, cool,” Wanda says, blushing a little.

Steve looks like he’s going to ask but then doesn’t. He kisses Steve on the top of his head and gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, babydoll.”

“Babydoll? That’s adorable.”

Steve blushes and Bucky goes back into the kitchen and cooks the steaks. Sears them in the pan, puts them in the oven while they talk and has the profound sense that this was a good decision. Bringing Steve here, to 2023 wasn’t a mistake. He’s needed here. They eat dinner and Steve eats an obscene amount of fudge sauce and by the end of the night both Wanda and Steve have plans to meet up for some practice sparring the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small chapter so people know I'm still alive and working on stuff. Three days goes by and I'm like 'oh no!' There is vacation next week for my kids and lots of traveling so I won't be posting as frequently as I usually do. Also, the next scene is pretty emotional and I don't want to post anything until that's worked through all the way and there's good to go with it. So, it might be a few days but when it turns up, it should be a pretty large chapter. 
> 
> Impossible is going slower but I do hope to get that finished by the end of next week. I'm sort of wondering if leaving it for a little means I will be re-energized and get back into it. At this point I'm thinking sex and it's over. Hope everyone has a good rest of the week!!
> 
> Oh! Did this work? Do we want more interactions with people?


	7. Chapter 7

They walk home holding hands. “I’m proud of you,” Bucky says, squeezing firmly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re so good with her. I actually feel bad for Other Steve. If he comes back, the world will have moved on without him. You both laughed more than they ever did and you’ve only known her for a few hours.”

“I’m not going to fucking pity Other Steve. Maybe I should be grateful he’s such a fucking moron, and it means I get you, but I can’t do pity.”

“Stevie,” he says, admonishing.

Steve stops walking. “Don’t take his side.”

“His side? He isn’t even here. I’m simply saying he’s fucked up and it will be difficult for him if he comes back because you’re amazing and everyone loves you. There is no fight there.”

They start walking again. Steve stops. “Is he coming back?”

_Fuck_. “My love, that is not something to worry about.”

“When?” Steve demands.

“He may not even come back. And, it doesn’t matter if he does.”

Steve huffs and shakes his head. Pulls back. “Don’t pretend it doesn’t matter. Or that I shouldn’t feel worried or threatened.God, he is. When?” he asks, voice trembling.

“Maybe a year,” he confesses.

He can see Steve thinking, trying to come up with a plan or work it through.

“Hey. Look at me,” Bucky says. “If you want to go away when he comes back, we can. I will leave with you in a heartbeat, if that’s what you need. I swear. We can go to the past, we can go to Europe or Wakanda, you name it, we’ll go. It’s you and me. You don’t need to be jealous.”

Steve swallows. “So, then what? He gets everything? We’ll leave our house and friends and the life we build because of him? I don’t want to run away from him. I just want to know you’ll choose me. I want to be so fucking convinced you only want _me,_ that I don’t have to care about him coming back. That’s… that’s the only way we get to be happy,” Steve says, so tense his shoulders are hiked up to his ears.

“Okay. Then let’s figure out how we do that. Let’s build something together. Maybe… maybe a family?”

Steve drags in a breath and starts to walk away and Bucky grabs his coat. “No, you don’t. Come here, sugar.”

A sob escapes him, which isn’t what Bucky expected. “I don’t know what you mean by that. _Fuck_,” Steve says, wiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Steve looks at the tears there like they’re poison. 

“It means a circle of friends, or it can mean a few dogs or maybe help with foster kids, I don’t know.”

“You would be an amazing father,” Steve says, and steps into his arms, presses close to him. “I always wanted you to have a baby girl. She’d have blue eyes and brown hair, that ridiculous mop of curls like Becca had when she was a baby. Remember when we were in Holland? And they’d finally dropped food and aid and we were there, having liberated the town and how there was that giant party in the town square and that little girl who would not leave you alone?”

Bucky blinks back tears. Because, yeah, he does remember and this isn’t a good memory. This is one he’d like to say he doesn’t fucking remember at all. “Yeah, I do.”

“I told myself I could survive being just an uncle and just your… friend if you got to have that and I got to see you with a little girl.”

Bucky can’t stand this. He pulls Steve towards home, has to let go of his hand. He shoves his hands into his pockets, rubs the metal hand against the lining. He can still feel his arm. Everything is fine. “It’s freezing, you know?”

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. Just… You’re just going to have to drop it.”

Steve is quiet for a beat. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t very sensitive of me, I guess. Maybe that’s why it would be good to go back?”

“What?” Bucky has no idea what connections Steve has made to explain Bucky’s withdrawal or why they should go back to the past. Bucky just wants to get home. Fuck. His arm starts to tingle. Maybe the universe does deal in karma, because something shatters up ahead, a few guys laughing and swearing immediately after. A bottle dropped. That’s all it was.

But, Bucky’s already grabbed Steve and shoved him against the wall, heart pounding. 

“What the fuck?” Steve asks, instinctively gripping Bucky back, both of them turning, sides to the wall and sinking to the ground like something might explode or shoot at them. Cover. Steve is looking around them for the threat.

“No. Sorry. It’s fine. I’m… over reacting. It was the bottle. Christ.” Maybe he can have Wanda come pick Steve up and take him to her place for a night. Just one night and then he’ll be okay. He can get him then. His hand is going numb.

He flexes it and relaxes. “I think you should call Wanda.”

“What? Why?”

“Tell her I’m gonna need a bit, and she can, she’ll watch you. Just a day, I think.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I have to get home. I’m sorry.” Bucky gets up and starts walking and that’s even worse. He’s never had to deal with having Steve next to him when this happens. Not like this. Exposed. He has to get home. No way is he abandoning Steve, though.

He turns to him, snarls, “Run.” He grabs Steve, jerking him into motion and they take off, running through the streets, dodging around the pedestrians when necessary, sticking closer to the road. People move for them.

Bucky’s heart is pounding. Steve is there. He knowsit. Steve is with him. They can keep going. He stops in front of his place but goes to the back. He doesn’t have it in him to get the key in the lock when he’s like this so he always breaks the back window. He’s fixed it plenty of times already.

He slams his fist through the glass and opens the back door. “Jesus, Buck. I could have opened it.”

He goes upstairs, dragging Steve with him, into the bedroom, locks the door. He shoves the chest against it. Moves the steel backed mirror into place in front of the window so he feels secure and moves to get into bed. Steve is staring at him like he is insane. He is.

“Bucky, sweetheart, what the fuck is going on?”

“Lay down with me or call Wanda. I can’t have you up there. You can’t go out. Either I see you and have you here or you have her protect you. Usually, 12 hours.”

He puts his head down, has the weird sense that everything is slipping away. “Stevie?” he begs, totally unsure where he is all the sudden.

“I’m right here. I’m fine. We’re together, Buck.” His shoes hit the ground and he gets into bed. Bucky grabs him hard. Hauls him close and cries.

***

When Bucky wakes up in the morning, he smells coffee and he can very faintly hear the tv. He gets out of bed, fucking relieved he’s up and it’s only been eight hours. He feels empty and tired, a little detached but he didn’t go away so long that he pissed himself and isn’t that what really matters? The little things, he thinks, snidely.

He takes a shower and brushes his teeth. He stinks of fear and sweat. He knows he held onto Steve hard, all night and feels kind of bad about it. He goes back to get dressed, moves the mirror back to where it belongs and goes to the kitchen. His iPad is there, lit up but nothing on the screen.

Steve stands up and goes to the coffee pot, pours Bucky coffee, jaw strong and set. He turns and offers it, looking downright grim.

“Do I want to know what you were looking up?”

“Started off with PTSD. But, I was looking at Holland. That’s what set you off, so I was curious.”

Bucky drinks some coffee and eats some bacon. Can he do this? Do they have to do this now? Or ever? Bucky shakes his head. “There are things we shouldn’t discuss. And that’s one of them.”

“Bullshit. Why not?”

“Because I’m trying to protect you.”

“No, you’re keeping me out. I’m here giving you _everything_ and trying my fucking hardest to be what you need, to be so much better for you than I was, but you have to give to.”

“Actually, that’s not really true. If I’m your daddy then I decide what’s best for us. So, is it off? Done already… sugar?”

Steve looks like Bucky has hit him. “That’s not being fair. You can’t threaten to take that away from us because I’m not going to tow the line and let you have everything your way.”

Bucky laughs. “Have everything my way? You’re fucking insane if you think this is me trying to be selfish and make things easier for myself. I do _everything_ for you. Every decision I make starts with ‘is this good for Steve?’”

“Well, maybe that wasn’t very good for you and Other Steve, either.”

Bucky shakes his head, staring at the half drunk mug. “No. This isn’t that.” He stands up. “I’m tired,” he says, heading back to bed.

“Don’t you walk away from me. I got pulled out of Holland and had to go to London. Left you and the Howlies there and we met up again in France a week later. The Nazis came back to make an example of Eindhoven and decimated it. I didn’t know. You should have told me.”

Bucky stops. Turns back. “You don’t want to do this with me now. I’m not myself. I don’t have a lot of patience. I’m telling you, back off and let it go.”

“I can’t do that.”

Bucky laughs, unhappily. “Neither could he.”

Steve covers his mouth with his hand, arms crossed in front of him, looking small, the outline of who he used to be so visible. “Buck. There is no way that you keeping things from me is good for us. That can’t be the answer.” His eyes are bright blue, imploring Bucky. “Talk to me. You didn’t talk to me then, talk to me now.”

“I didn’t talk to you then,” he repeats. And that’s really the last straw. This idea that Bucky is to blame for this, that he’s the one who hurt Steve by not telling him what happened when he wasn’t there. It’s not his fault Steve didn’t fucking know. Didn’t care to look. Didn’t fucking think about it. Everyone thinks Steve Rogers is such a god damned genius.

“What should I have fucking told you, Sherlock? You fucked off with Peggy doing god knows what, and the town went to shit around us. Don’t fucking pretend you didn’t know.You _knew_. It was another thing we didn’t talk about. The meals you had, days pulled off the front, showers and beds and fucking safety, the trips to London with her. I _never_ asked. I welcomed you back and I kept you from the shit that didn’t stop just because you got a break.”

Steve won’t even look at him. “I didn’t, actually,” he murmurs. “They kept a lot of that from me. And, when we met up again you didn’t bring it up. No one did.”

“And why do you think that was? That no one regaled you with stories of what happened every fucking time you left?” 

“I don’t know. But, this is _us_. We were supposed to be there for each other. That’s the whole point.”

“Sure, babe. How would that conversation have gone? Remember that little girl in Eindhoven that you went all gaga for and wished was ours? That you pinned dreams and fantasies on? Remember how we were in Eindhoven and you looked at me like I hung the fucking moon and wanted me as if I really could knock you up and give you a baby?Well, you left and the Germans bombed the fucked out of us. Everyone died and I fucking pulled her out of the rubble. That was not a good day. No. _Fuck you_. I wasn’t going to tell you that because I love you. Me not making you miserable and dragging you into the mental shit isn’t me being a fucking asshole,” he says. God, he wants to hit something.

“It was a burden I could have carried too. I deserved to know that happened,” he whispers, more tears going down his face. But, Bucky doesn’t have it in him to hold Steve right now. He should. He wishes he did, but he can’t. Not today.

“Then you could have looked around a little bit more. Could have paid a bit more attention. It wasn’t the first fucking time you got pulled out by fucking Peggy Carter and the rest of us almost died.” He laughs. It isn’t actually funny, but it’s so fucked up and obvious. Everyone knew. “Steve, that was a god damned sign. The _moment_ they pulled you out we locked down tight. It meant incoming. You were the one they wanted to save. The rest of us were fuel to the cause. If we survived, great. If we died, we’d be heroes and our deaths would sell war bonds and you’d have the sympathy of a country. No better propaganda then that. If you didn’t figure that out, that’s not my problem. If you were so happy to leave us there, that you didn’t realize how we all looked at each other and snapped into action as soon as you were leaving, I don’t know what to fucking tell you.”

“No,” he says, horrified.

“I need to be alone. I can’t do this with you right now,” Bucky says. In the bedroom, he opens the drawer and pulls out a mouthguard. He doesn’t even care if Steve can see it. That isn’t his problem.

_Wipe him and start over._

Those aren’t bad words. They used to be a relief. He’d get confused or overwhelmed by what he’d done. He’d suddenly realize he was covered in blood and the faces of the people he’d killed would suddenly be people, and going back into the chair was bliss.

They put the mouth guard in, he lays back and it’s all okay. A Winter Soldier pacifier for when shit is really, really bad. Heputs the mouthguard in and lies down. _Wipe him and start over._

Steve is there, watching him. “What are you doing?”he asks, sounding terrified.

He ignores him, it’s like meditation. Sink down. Just go, he thinks. Steve is shaking his arm. “Spit it out. What are you doing?”

He shoves Steve off of him and tries to turn away but Steve won’t let him go. Tears are running down his face. “I don’t understand. I want to help you. How do I help you?”

Oh fuck. Bucky has to do this _again_. Once around with the Other Steve wasn’t enough. He has to tell a new Steve Rogers to leave him alone. It didn’t go well last time, either.

But, Steve had left him. By the time they got to this reveal of Bucky’s fucked-up-ness, his Steve was tired. So damned tired. Beaten down. He’d learned to walk away. To take Bucky at his word and go. He takes out the mouthguard.

“You don’t help me,” he says. “You leave.”

“What? Where would I— _no_.”

“Leave. You don’t like this part. You think this is your fault.”

“I don’t actually. Because I have no fucking idea what’s wrong with you.”

“I can’t…I can’t keep it together for you. Please go,” he says, and it takes so much control and strength to say that calmly. To look Steve in the eyes and beg him to give him space.

Tears fill Steve’s eyes. He’s blinking them back, desperately not wanting to fall apart. “Is that what I usually do? Do I go?”

“Yes.”

“Then….then I’m not fucking leaving,” he says, and he gets into bed with him. He lays there, resolute. His hand comes out. An offer. Bucky puts the mouth guard back in, turns so he’s on his back and waits to start over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like it's been a million years so have an update! I'd kind of wanted to do a bigger chapter to get past all the angst but I'm on vacation and things aren't going as quick as I want them to. Comments always, always welcome :)


	8. Chapter 8

Steve doesn’t know if this is the right decision. Bucky told him to go. Should he? Is it really sensible to base every decision on doing the opposite of what the Other Steve would do? Sure, it’s worked so far, but maybe that’s luck. Maybe it’s a fluke.

Or, maybe, that works for a lot of things but not this. So much trauma and hurt and Bucky thinking he’s the one responsible for all of it.

Why did the other Steve leave when Bucky got like this? He’d said Steve thought this was his fault. He gets out of bed and calls Wanda, wanting advice. She tells him to call Sam. He apparently bore the brunt of depressed Steve and his relationship with Bucky.

“Steve put on a pretty brave face for me when he could. Kind of felt like that was the best thing to do. But, Sam was with Steve when they were looking for Bucky. Two years on the road, traveling the world, going after every lead and turning up nothing. Call Sam.”

Steve calls Sam. Sam meets him out front, sits down on the step and looks around. “So. How bad is it?” he asks.

“What’s the deal with the mouthguard?”

“Oh. Shit. Um. Well, as far as I know, that was part of the routine. We saw a video once, Nat found it, of how they wiped him. He’d get into the chair, get the mouthguard, and then they’d wipe his memory. Painful, as you might imagine. It’d usually knock him out or come close to it. Then they’d drag him out of the chair and stick him back in cryo. Sometimes, he just shuts down. That’s um… that’s hard for Steve. Other Steve. All Steves?”

“Steve left him alone.”

“Bucky _wanted_ to be left alone. Steve didn’t feel like he had much of a choice,” Sam says, and it sounds like he’s defending Steve.

“I don’t know if he wants to be left alone. He just doesn’t want to hurt me. I think he’s worried I’ll be upset. So he wanted to send me away so I wouldn’t see it or something.”

“Well, this is the guy who ran for two years to protect Steve and then went into cryo to protect him. I don’t know how much of him there is, if it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“On one hand, that sounds really sweet. On the other, it sounds like maybe that’s a problem.”

“No shit.”

“I cannot believe there was so much Bucky didn’t tell me. This all started because I brought up something that had happened during the war. Like, one of the few good memories I thought we had, hopeful for the future, and it turns out it was a fucking lie. It was a nightmare for him. For our friends. And, I had no idea. Fuck, if what he said is true. If I was so willfully blind—” His throat gets choked up with emotion.

“I don’t know, man. You know he loves you more than anything. And he just wants to protect you.”

“He does. But, I think he’s bitter, too. Carried too much of the weight over the years. That’s how it’s always been. How it had to be because I was sick or I was going to die. You know, I got the serum and he just let me take over. He fell in line and he acted like it was totally fine that I was now the one everyone wanted and looked up to. There is no way that was easy. But, he did it. And, I expected him to.”

“Look. Every decision he’s made, when he had a choice, it’s been for you.”

“And what did Other me do? I wanted more.”

“Steve went through a lot. He lost everyone. Over and over again. And then, he thought he had you back and he didn’t because it seemed like Bucky didn’t want him. Those were dark days for him. And then we found Buckyand… he had to go into cryo. But, Steve didn’t believe that. He took it personally that Bucky wouldn’t fight. Bucky didn’t want to fight and Steve needed someone to fight for him. And then he came out of cryo and he and Steve….” He shrugs. “I don’t know. Then there was Thanos, who killed half of everyone and as fucked up as Steve was before, those years were not good for him. He and Nat had each other.”

“Nat?”

“She died. A lot of people died. Steve did years thinking Bucky was dead, years needing to help him and not being able to and years with him and everyone he cared about dead. My opinion? You two aren’t the same. You’ll be okay.”

***

Steve goes back inside when they’re done talking and heads to bed. He sleeps near Bucky but doesn’t touch him and decides to be okay with that. That’s what’s going to get them through. He is strong enough to be there for Bucky. And he wants to. But, he’s also strong enough to carry some of the burden. He can just be there and be supportive.

Steve wakes up to Bucky kissing his shoulder, chest against Steve’s back. “What time is it?” Steve asks, because it feels like the middle of the night.

“Noon.”

Bucky cups his breast, plays with the nipple and Steve’s hard. “Fuck, it’s not fair. You barely even touch me and I’m hard.”

“That’s because you’re a good girl,” he says, pressing his hard cock against Steve’s ass. Steve sighs. His face is hot with embarrassment. “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Do you think we should talk about what happened?” he asks, trying to be an adult and not a sex obsessed idiot.

“Maybe. Probably. But, if you’re not mad at me I’d really like to be with you first.”

“I’m not mad. Fuck, of course I’m not mad. I’m….” He takes a breath. Later. Steve can make this about him and the past in a little bit. “Whatever you want, daddy,” he says, and Bucky rolls him to his back, kissing down his body and spreading his thighs. He nuzzles into Steve’s balls.

“I showered while you were asleep. If you’re curious.”

“Big plans, Rogers?” Bucky gives him a wink.

“Well, for the last two years I’ve showered very irregularly. What with the bombings and war and all. But, now I can. And um, I thought, if you had ideas or plans, I wanted to be… appealing.”

Bucky kisses downwards, spreads him open, looks at his hole with such lust that Steve blushes. “I love it. You’re so tight, baby. Do I get to open you up or do you need me right now? Tell daddy.”

“Um, I don’t know. Whatever you want.”

“I think you do know. Tell me,” he says, and he gives a very wet kiss to Steve’s hole, presses his thumb into him, just expecting him to open. Which is how Steve likes it. He lets his legs fall wide, as if that will make the rest of his body follow suit. When pain arrives, he gives in. “There you go. Show daddy. God, what a pretty girl you are,” he says, voice low.

“I mean it, daddy. I want whatever you want. I promise.”

“No, babydoll. That’s not good enough. Choose,” he says, and the thumb comes out, two fingers spank gently against his hole.

“Fuck. I’ll never answer now,” he says.

Which makes Bucky laugh, fond and happy. “Look at you. Does that make you drip, sugar?” And he gets spanked again, over and over again, gentle but it builds. The area is so vulnerable and delicate. It’s magnified a thousand fold. “Don’t get carried away, Steve. I’ll still fuck you. Pace yourself.”

“Daddy, fuck, daddy. It’s so good. I love it so much,” he gasps.

“Let me hear you then. Can you be noisy for me? Just a little sound?”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to start now.There’s too much pressure. If Bucky wants him to be loud, he has to make it happen. “Help me.”

Bucky doesn’t hit him harder, which is kind of what he expected, but he bites into the meat of Steve’s thigh, the inside, and Steve swears and digs his hands into Bucky’s hair. His hips roll into the sensation and he shouts. “_Fuck_. I don’t know if that’s what I meant. Jesus Christ. That was vicious,” he gasps. He puts a hand over his mouth, absently and Bucky licks the stinging area.

“Get that hand out of the way, princess.”

“Oh. Oh, it wasn’t on purpose. Daddy.” But, Bucky won’t stop looking at him, not quite disappointed but maybe a little. That’s how Steve interprets the look, anyway. “Daddy?”

Bucky turns his head, presses a kiss to his other thigh. “You want it, baby girl?”

“It’s going to hurt,” he whispers, and presses his bitten thigh to Bucky’s cheek, closing his legs just a little.

“I know. But, I want it. And then you get kisses. And then you’ll be noisy for me and I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. Don’t you want my come?”

Steve reaches down, hand gently sliding through Bucky’s hair. “You know I do. More than anything, daddy.”

Bucky bites him then and Steve closes his legs on Bucky’s head, every muscle clenched. Bucky releases him, praises him. Steve’s so fucking hard and he’s whimpering now. He can’t stop trembling, the pain and anticipation have him buzzing out of his skin.

“That’s good, baby. Just like that,” he says, as Steve tries to get himself together. 

“Daddy. Spank me until I come?”

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He nods and whimpers. Gets smacked over and over again, hips churning up to meet him. He’s vocal now, every hit gets a sound, sometimes a word and the moments in-between pull sighs from him, little grunts and pleas.When Steve comes, Bucky presses his fingers against the hot flesh, knows his hole is pulsing against Bucky’s touch. Bucky replaces his fingers with his tongue, feeling the last shocks. He kisses and licks again and Steve writhes. “Fuck. Sensitive. Daddy?”

“Get on top of it, Steve. You still have to take daddy’s cock. And you were just too fucking perfect, god, you’ve got me hard, Steve.”

“Come on then. Please.”

Bucky doesn’t move yet, kissing Steve’s hole and pressing a finger and then two into him. He swipes up Steve’s come and feeds it into him as lubricant. “Fuck, that’s so good, daddy,” he says, when Bucky gets two fingers into him. There isn’t quite enough lube.

Steve’s breathing starts to deepen, discomfort becoming painful. Steve moans wantonly, finally losing himself to the feeling. Sometimes Bucky thinks Steve doesn’t know the difference between pain and pleasure.

And it’s a common thing, people who live with chronic pain finding ways to channel it, don’t want to be owned by it. He wonders, if Steve had been healthy as a child, if he’d still like it this way. Or, if he hadn’t been bullied so much, made that weird connection in his mind of violence and satisfaction. But, he does. He always has.

And as much as Steve is trying to indulge Bucky and as much as he’d liked it being soft, the truth is that Steve likes it when it hurts, loves how much more intense sex is. “I love it when you come apart for me, Steve. I fucking do. I want to slide into you. Want you to take that for me. What do you think?” He gets off the bed, gets lube and slicks up his cock. He gets a glob on his fingers and waits for Steve to answer.

“Yes, daddy,” he says, but only when Bucky’s attention is back on him.It comes across as very sincere and eager to please. God knows those aren’t bad things. Not especially typical of Steve, though.

“Where are you? Do you think you’ll cry?” 

He blows out a breath, shakes his head. “Don’t know.”

“Do you want to?” he asks, and gets on the bed, hand touching Steve’s hole as he presses the slick onto the puckered opening and then pushes it in with two fingers. He’s flushed and beginning to look a little sore.

“I don’t know,” he says, pressing hard into the fingers.

“Yes, you do. Tell me or I’ll make you tell me.”

Steve bites his lip, blinks at him. “I want to be good.”

“You are good, sugar. Good girls need it hard sometimes, too. Don’t they? That’s okay. Daddies give their girls what they need. I think you’re the kind of girl that loves it hard. It’s okay if you’re shy about it. I’m happy to give it to you, Steve.” And the way he says the words is just different enough to let Steve know that he really means it. He does know what Steve usually likes and he does want to give him the pain he craves.

Steve nods. Bucky lines himself up, flicks a glance up to Steve. “Hold those legs open, up high. Let’s go really deep.”

“Oh, fuck. Daddy.”

“I’ll only ask you once, so you give me the real answer here. Do you want me to get seated slow or fast?”

Steve covers his face for a moment. He doesn’t want to disappoint Bucky. Even though Bucky has told him it’s okay to want it hard, he’s scared. Scared that maybe he’s still a little off and it might be too much, scared that it’s going to be so good that he’ll never be able to give Bucky the soft side of him again.

He’s just scared.

There were too many years of sex being really fucking complicated for him not to be. And Bucky keeps asking him, demanding he choose and make decisions. What’s the point of having a daddy if he still has to decide?

“It all feels good to me. Whatever you want. Maybe, would you stop if I say James? Give me a minute?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Then that’s what my good girl gets. It’s okay, babydoll. You can’t scare me away. Trust me.”

“Then, um. Fast, daddy. Really hard and really fast. Just use me like….”

“Like what, sugar?”

“Like I’m your sloppy girl. Loose, maybe. I’ll open up if you keep going. Or, maybe, like… like you expect that. If that makes sense.”

“I expect you to open up and get loose even though you’re not and it’s going to hurt quite a bit? You’ll say James if it isn’t what you like?”

“We don’t have to,” Steve whispers.

“You’re being silly. We’re fine. Okay, sweetheart?” He settles over Steve, kissing him carefully. He pinches Steve’s nipple, plays with his breast for a moment. Steve is all locked up still. He just… he wants it so much and he’s terrified. “You better relax. It’s going to happen and it’s going to be tough for you if you’re all clenched up.”

Steve sort of laughs. “I can’t. I’m waiting for it. When are you going to do it?”

“I wanted to be kissing you. I like how you breathe and gasp into my mouth when I’m hurting you.”

“Really?” he asks, like Bucky has said something loving.

“Really, sweet girl. Get your leg up on my shoulder.”

Steve hesitates.

“Too vulnerable?”

“No, you just, you’re not messing around,” Steve says, touching Bucky’s chest and his arms, reveling in how strong he is.

“No. You earned it. You’ve been so kind and sweet to me. Just want my best girl to know how I feel. I’m gonna make you understand.”

Steve nods. Bucky gets a hand on his knee, holding Steve lightly as he gets into the position Bucky wants.

“Easy, baby.” He’s gripping Bucky tightly. A hand on his side and the other on his shoulder near his neck.

“I know. Sorry. I’m excited. Come on, daddy.”

Bucky lines himself up and leans closer. “Open your mouth, babydoll.” Steve does, a loud gasp and Bucky shoves into him. Steve squeals, head tilting back as he arches into or against it. His hands fist, hand raking down Bucky’s back as the pain washes over him. He can’t breathe, can’t do anything beyond the intense feeling of his body being forced open.

Bucky doesn’t stop. He moans and carries on, bottoms out much too quickly, Steve rippling around him, clenching painfully against his hard cock. 

“_Daddy_. Daddy so much.”

“Feels so good. And there. Feel it? Daddy’s all the way in you. What a good girl you are. Didn’t I tell you you could take me easy?”

“Mmm hmm,” he says, “Feel it. Feel you.” Bucky pulls out and slams back into him, a brutal pace with no warning. Steve clenches inside, body protesting.

“Baby. You look like it hurts. Look like it’s a lot for that pretty hole of yours. But, daddy’s got you open, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” he gasps, almost breathless.

“So, I don’t need to stop or slow down, do I?”

“No, daddy.”

“You’re loosening up for me. Feel it?” Steve isn’t. He’s tight and the sounds Steve is making are definitely more pain than pleasure. “I know, baby. It hurts. But, you can take it. It eases. Relax. The sting goes and then it’s good. Isn’t it? Doesn’t it feel good now?”

“Uh huh. Wet. I’m wet for you, daddy.” 

“That’s right, baby. You are. Because you’re my good, slutty girl and you can fucking take me whenever I need you to, can’t you?”

“Fuck. Yes, daddy. ”

“You’re ready to drip come anytime, aren’t you? If I want to empty my balls, that’s where it goes, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Oh. Um, that’s really filthy. But, yes. _Fuck_.”

Bucky pulls out and flips Steve over, sinks back into him, hands digging into his hips. “There you go. You want my come deep, baby?”

“Daddy. I’m going to come. On your cock, daddy. Like a, god damn, like a good girl.” Steve comes, the spasms so hard Bucky can’t hold back and he comes deep in Steve, grinding each pulse into him.

Long moments pass as Bucky softens inside him. Steve is still under him, finally quiet and calm. “I want to sleep for a year. That was_ so _good.”

“Yeah?”

“God. Even… empty your balls into me? That had no business being hot.”

“The crudeness helps, I think,” Bucky says, contemplatively. He slips out of Steve’s hole and Steve reaches for him, pulls him down next to him, gets his head on Bucky’s chest. 

“No, the fact that I’m gagging for it all the time is what makes it effective. But, really, was it okay for you?”

“Steven Grant Rogers, look at me.”

Steve scowls. He turns his head and looks. Bucky is very serious and somehow fond at the same damned time. “I loved that. I can fuck you like that six days out of seven and die a happy man.”

“Really? I don’t need it harder, Buck.”

Bucky kisses him. “We’re fine. I’ll always give you what you need, Steve. I know you’re worried and I understand why but I swear to you we’re different and we’re going to be okay.”

Steve blinks back the tears. He knows. He does. Basically.

Bucky kisses his bottom lip, nipping him. “I’m going to make you come on my tongue,” he says.

“Sore,” Steve whispers, cock already twitching in excitement.

His smile is villainous. “I know. The neighbors and gonna be scandalized. You yowl like a cat in heat.”

“I do not!”

“That’s a challenge.”

Yeah, it is. Because he does get noisy about it.

Steve loses within two minutes, the contrast of it being so soft and yet he’s so damned sensitive and sore is beyond overwhelming. 

It’s amazing.

***

They’re watching tv later that afternoon when Steve brings it up. “I’m sorry about Eindhoven. And… never knowing.”

Bucky reaches for his hand, holds it and pulls Steve closer. “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“No. I’m not sorry about that. I should have known. Should have worked it out. I thought people behaved so weirdly around me when I came back because I’d just had the equivalent of a vacation and they were irked. And, I felt shitty for leaving so I was always trying to get past that part of me coming back to camp. I just wanted things to be normal. I didn’t bring it up and no one else did and I was so busy thinking about myself and how guilty I felt for leaving that it didn’t occur to me that other people were upset. Fuck. I was such an oblivious asshole.”

Bucky tries to get Steve closer but he won’t move. “Put your legs over my lap, I’m trying to hold you.”

“I know. I’m resisting because I was such a… How come you didn’t hate me?”

“Because I loved you then and I love you now. It wasn’t your choice. I know that. You never wanted to leave.”

“I never fooled around with her or anything. You know that, right?”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. It was a long fucking time ago, Steve.”

“But, I didn’t. I loved you. Always. And it wasn’t a long time ago for me.”

“Do you regret it? Ever? You could have had a normal life with her. She could have kept you safe.”

“No, not for a single fucking moment. That’s like me asking you if you liked that redhead— Dot.”

Bucky has the vaguest memory of who that was but this Steve and Other Steve both mentioned her. He kind of wishes he could remember her if she made such an impression. “What was she like?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “That is not a good change of conversation.”

“I’m serious!”

“She was fast. And she wore too much makeup and she was dumb as a post. She also was very… pleasing to look at, up top.”

“She had good tits?”

“Buck.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“You have good tits. They couldn’t have been as good as yours.”

Steve sighs and shoves at him. Bucky drags him closer, not letting him resist this time, gets him over his lap. “No way were they this good,” he says, pushing up Steve’s shirt. He kisses Steve’s nipple lightly and then the other one.

“You’re insatiable. You need to see someone,” Steve says, blushing and happy but trying to hide it. Bucky’s love of his chest makes him shy. Still.

“A sex therapist?”

“Yes, you should see someone.*”

“I’ll show them your tits and they’ll tell me I don’t have a problem. And then I’ll tell them how difficult you can be and they’ll pity me and give me my money back.”

Steve laughs and shoves at him. “You’re a jerk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: *Not to break that fourth wall too much, but author insert comment, how great would a modern Bucky as sex therapist story be?
> 
> I'm sorry I'm so behind on responding to comments! have content instead?


	9. Chapter 9

The next few months are downright idyllic. Steve starts training with Wanda. By the end of the day he’s got a slightly wide-eyed and shell shocked look about him. Wanda’s powers have a tendency to do that to people.

Sam shows up for training after that and Steve is suitably impressed with Sam’s wings. Sam gets all puffed up and pleased with himself as he shows off his rolls and tricks.

And then, the next day Scott is there. He does his ‘look how big I am’ and ‘look how small I am’ and brings his daughter by to get an autograph.

Bucky is pretty sure that although he said the autograph was for her, it was actually for Scott. They start going to lunch after practice.

Pepper shows up a week later and she’s brought some documents and a few things for Steve and Bucky to look at. A new training area, a new building being built. Steve goes home that night and he can’t stop talking about the possibilities.

Steve loves people. People didn’t necessarily love him before the serum. He was always so prickly and had such a chip on his shoulder. He could be judgmental. But, Steve is different now, became different after all the time with the Howlies and the men in the trenches and it’s that Steve who’s here now, one who has energy for people and willingness to invest because he doesn’t think they’re all going to die. This Steve doesn’t think the world is an evil place, built on shady organizations. He doesn’t think that good men died for no reason and he still believes people are good and society can change. 

Anyway, this Steve is a people magnet. He’s got a deep well of patience and a desire to surround himself with people who love him. Steve needs a fucking family and after his initial hesitation, Steve jumps into friendship mode easily.

Steve and Pepper get along like a house on fire, Steve thinks Morgan is adorable, and because no one has told him the world is so fucked up because Tony refused to sacrifice her, he treats her like she’s normal.

Obviously, everyone else does too, but there’s a weight there when someone mentions Nat or how things are now, a tip toeing around the fact that everyone’s life is worse because of her very existence.

Steve’s enthusiasm for her is uncomplicated. Sometimes Pepper will get this teary eyed look about her when Steve picks her up and hauls her around on his shoulders in the gym. It’s fucking adorable.

Bucky would go so far as to say that his interactions with Morgan seem to make all of them happier. Like he’s doing the heavy, emotional labor of it all. Steve doesn’t seem to notice how everyone else feels and Bucky knows no one else is going to tell him.

He and Pepper start looking for a new building for the Avengers. A massive training area and apartments are what’s wanted. Steve had brought it up at dinner one night, pulled out some sketches of what he thought the space should look like, what kind of communal areas they should have, and he and Pepper had started looking.

By the time Original Steve comes back, four months earlier than he’s supposed to, a Bucky by his side, they’re all living, at least part time, in the new facility.

They’re all training when Sam’s phone rings. Bucky and Wanda are with Steve down on the mats and Sam looks at his phone, sits up straight and grabs Scott.

Sam waves Bucky over. “I get an alert from my door when someone rings the bell. Look!”

Bucky squints at the picture. “God, I look young. Look at me scouting suburbia for threats. What a dork.”

Sam scowls at him. Bucky shrugs. He’s got two options here. Snark or panic. Bucky Barnes doesn’t panic, thank you very fucking much.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, ever so silently coming up behind them.

Sam’s mouth falls open. Bucky tries to think of the right phrasing to put Steve at ease. Scott opens his big fucking mouth. “You’re back. Knocking on Sam’s door but he’s not home.” He nods his head towards the picture.

Steve looks at it. “Why is my hair so blond? I thought you said it was a year?”

Bucky shrugs. “I thought it was a year. He said a year.”

“Do we have to choose sides?” Scott asks.

“No.” Bucky says, adamantly. “It’s _fine_.”

“Sam, get him sorted out. I’ll call you later.” He takes Steve by the hand, starts pulling him out of the room.

“Where are they going?” Scott asks.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam says.

Bucky pulls Steve into the hallway and towards the elevator. Steve stops, planting his feet. “Hold on. Wait a minute. Where are we going?”

“I was kind of hoping we could have really great sex before we deal with all of that.”

Steve huffs in annoyance and pulls his hand away. He crosses his arms, defensive. “I don’t need to be placated with dick, thank you very fucking much.”

“What about me? Maybe I need to be placated?” Steve gives him a look, sizing him up. “You’re fine. I blew you like an hour ago. Why is he back? And, that’s rhetorical. I know you don’t know. I don’t _want_ to meet other me. And I don’t think you should meet him, either.” Steve takes a breath his hand going to his throat. “Am I going to have a panic attack? Fuck him. He had his chance and he walked away.”

Bucky sighs and pulls Steve into his arms. “Sweetheart, I love you. Maybe we should just get it out of the way. I don’t have any interest in him and you know it. Besides, even through the grainy photo it was pretty clear that the other me looks younger than I do. Maybe… maybe that’s more fitting for you. You don’t think I’m worried?” he asks, softly.

Steve kisses him so hard Bucky is surprised he doesn’t tastes blood. “I don’t want you worried,” Steve whispers, “Daddy, take me upstairs.”

A wretching sound comes from a few feet away. _“Daddy?” _Scott says.

“Shut up,” Steve says, cheeks going pink. “What do you want?”

“Oh. We talked to them through the phone and the doorbell. Other you literally jumped in the air when Sam spoke. It was like Dorothy meeting the great and powerful Oz. It was funny. Er, anyway. Steve wants to take James to Wakanda.”

_“James?”_ Steve asks.

Scott shrugs. “That’s what Steve called him. It’s better than AB. Alternative Bucky. We hadn’t come up with anything better. Thought we had more time.”

Steve sucks on his lower lip for a second. “Who has to be Alternative Steve?”

“Uh, no one.” Scott says. “You abbreviate it and that’s _AS_ and we thought there was a decent chance someone would--”

“Call him an Ass? Guess it fits,” Steve says.

“This is going to be a disaster. I’ll call Shuri,” Bucky says, and takes out his phone. “Tell them they can stay here. We’ll go to Brooklyn for the night.”

Steve looks pissed. “No fucking way. Why the fuck should we? This is our god damned home and he can fuck off to somewhere else. I’m not giving it up for him. I’m not giving up _anything_ for him.”

“I have to go… anywhere else,” Scott mutters, with wide eyes. 

“Steve. These are his friends too,” Bucky says, gently.

“Fuck you,” Steve says, turns on his heel and storms off down the hall.

Sam is somehow there too. “Right. I’m gonna get them a room in a hotel. _I’ll_ call Shuri, you go deal with your man.”

“The sooner we all meet and get this over with, the better. Figure out what Steve wants to do. Tell him it’s a god damned cluster fuck and young him is a hot head who wants to punch his lights out, and that if he even looks at me like he might want to bone me, that World War 3 will happen.”

“I don’t think I’m literally going to say that. But, I will convey sentiments that resemble that. Um, but he’s already said that he thinks you all need to meet as soon as possible and that if other him so much as looks at other you like he wants him that there will be a problem. You all are saying the same thing.” Sam rolls his eyes. “What do we call him? Older Steve? We could call him Older Steve. Steven G? Like Kenny G?”

Bucky tries not to laugh. “God, I’d love to call him Kenny G because that would be fucking hysterical. And he has no idea who that is I’m sure.”

“Well, I would just like it noted that in every reality there is apparently a Steve Rogers that will go absolutely batshit if someone messes with a Bucky Barnes. That’s kind of sweet, you know? Let’s aim for breakfast tomorrow at 8 and then we’ll figure the rest out.”

“Let’s? You’re going to breakfast, too?”

“Oh. _Everyone_ is going. There’s bets going around on who’s going to punch who first and when. How many times. It’s a whole big thing.”

Bucky has nothing to say to that. Someone is most definitely going to win that bet. Right. He’s got to take care of Steve.

***

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he gets to their place. There might be slamming things about, there might be crying, possibly yelling. Steve might rip his clothes off… he’s thinking he should rip Steve’s clothes off.

He’s not expecting quiet. Steve isn’t in the bedroom or the bathroom and he starts wondering if maybe he didn’t come back to the apartment when he sees his shadow on the balcony. Bucky sighs and goes outside. Steve is staring at nothing, head propped on his chin, brow furrowed.

“I’m trying to tell myself that it’s okay. That if you decide you want him,” he swallows, his voice is rough, “that there is another Bucky and I won’t be alone. That maybe there isn’t a… and I don’t know if that makes me feel worse or better.”

“That would make me feel worse,” Bucky says. “Look at me,” he says, squatting down so he’s next to Steve’s chair, looking up at him. He leans in to kiss him and Steve’s breath hitches when their lips touch.

“What if he wants you?”

“He can’t have me. Sweet girl, look at me. I’m in love with you. I need you and I can’t live without you.”

Tears fall down Steve’s face, perfect drops. His cheeks are pink and his bottom lip is bitten red. “I can… I’ll let you go if I have to,” he whispers. “I want you to be happy. Ultimately, that’s the only thing I want.”

“Stop. I won’t let you go. Come on. I need you, baby.” Steve looks at him, lower lip trembling. “Can you be my good girl tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy,” he whispers.

“Did you get yourself all cleaned out for me today?”

Bucky knows he did. But, Steve likes it when Bucky asks. Likes being able to say that he’s done this for him. Likes it when Bucky praises him for it. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl. Come on,” he says, and gets to his feet. Steve stands and Bucky pulls him close. “Up, baby.”

“Bucky,” he protests, blushing. But he wraps his arms around his neck and lets Bucky pick him up, legs around his waist and carry him to the bedroom. He kisses him along the way, careful and soft, slow and easy. He puts him down in the bedroom and goes to the closet, pulling down a box and opening it up. He pulls out a wrapped present and hands it to Steve.

“What’s this?”

“This is what I thought I wanted you to wear when he came back.”

“You said you didn’t know he’d come back early,” Steve says, suspiciously. 

“I didn’t. I just thought that the day would come and I wanted to be prepared. I love you. Go ahead.”

Steve opens the box, leaning into Bucky as he does. “More lingerie?” But, he says it with a smile because he loves it just as much as Bucky does.

“There’s more. Actually, it’s a bit of a multi-part gift. You can open it or I could just put you in it. Get my pretty doll all fixed up like I want you.”

“Yes, please,” Steve says, and starts undoing his trousers. He toes off his shoes and gets his clothes off. Steve puts them away, doesn’t like having his real clothes around when they play like this. Steve’s been getting into it more as time has worn on. Not just more comfortable with the idea of it all but with himself. He’s become softer too, more docile, as if he’s taken all that hard edged, angry energy and transformed it into something soft. Something that fits them better.

“Beautiful girl. Sweetheart, did you get yourself slick for me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Over, let’s feel,” Bucky murmurs, cock hard in his pants. Steve turns and bends over, spreads his legs and Bucky slides a finger down his cheeks, presses gently into his hole. Steve moans and wiggles back. Bucky’s finger comes out glistening. “Good girl.” 

Bucky gets into the box and pulls out the plug he bought for Steve. “This may be tricky and if you don’t like it, you can say.”

“What the hell is it? Why won’t I like it?” he asks, pushing himself up to see.

“It’s weighted. Keeping it inside will be tiring. Distracting. Maybe uncomfortable.”

Steve eyes it, and Bucky parts his cheeks, presses it against his hole. “Are you ready, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Bucky pushes it into him, watching the tight pink ring of muscle spread open. “I love the sight of you opening up for me. Good girl,” he praises and gets it seated. Steve is still bent over, breathing shallow. Bucky takes his hand away and Steve whimpers, his hand goes back like he’s worried it’s going to fall out.

“Fuck. Daddy.”

“It’s okay, baby. We’re just going to give it a try.”

Steve presses his legs together, ass clenching tight and his fingers press in on it. He moans. Bucky reaches around him, feels him hard and wet. Bucky takes the panties out of the box, and Steve sighs in relief.

He straightens, hand still on his hole, eyes a little blown and like he’s contemplating crying and fists his hand in Bucky’s shirt.

“Stevie?”

“Am I your good girl?”

“Yeah, baby you are. What do you think of that plug?”

He shakes his head and blushes. “Panties?”

Bucky gets them sorted and Steve hasn’t paid all that much attention, staring over Bucky’s shoulder, hand on the plug, as if it requires all of his attention. He realizes there’s something wrong with the underwear as it hits his thighs.

“Bucky?”

“I know, baby.”

The ass consists of a single thong strap that goes down the crack of his ass. There’s literally no fabric covering his ass at all. The underwear is pink and there’s a matching bra, again, just straps, framing his chest rather than supporting.

Steve switches hands for the plug, giving Bucky a rather pathetic look and gets his arms through. Bucky fastens it closed and Steve reaches for Bucky’s cock in his pants. “Daddy, I need to blow you.”

“No, there’s more.” Steve looks at the box. “Sweetheart, look at me. Take daddy’s clothes off now.”

He reaches for him with one hand, blushing.

“No. Two. Go ahead. It’s just a plug. You can keep it in.” He pinches Steve’s nipples while Steve lets go of the plug, gasping softly and then fumbling with Bucky’s pants. He moves like he’s going to sit down and then stops, puts a hand back.

“Daddy!”

Bucky steps out of his pants and takes the box with him to the chair, leading Steve with him. He sits down and Steve gets straight onto his lap, pressing his ass against Bucky’s cock, burrowing onto him to not feel the weight.

He takes off Bucky’s shirt, licks his lips nervously.

“Are you still my best girl?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. You look beautiful. I’m going to play with you for awhile, Steve.”

He holds up a chain, long and silver, fastens it around Steve’s neck. It hangs long and he can’t help but run a hand down it and over Steve’s pecs, letting his nail press gently into the bud of each nipple. Goosebumps race over Steve’s skin and Bucky runs his palms over the sensitized skin, Steve making quiet sounds, eyes closed and waiting.

When Bucky kisses him, he seems almost surprised, Steve’s mouth staying open and soft.

“There you go, sweet thing. Are you waiting for me?”

“Uh huh. My pussy aches,” he whispers. Bucky loves that, fucking loves it when he says that and has to grab him, haul him closer so he’s over the hard bar of Bucky’s cock, exactly where he wants him, not where Steve gets the most support for the plug. Steve cries out and tries to grind down to avoid the weight. He’s panting, almost startled out of his submissive mindset and that usually makes Steve more receptive, needier.

“I got distracted. You distracted me. Talking about your pussy means you’re going to get acock in it if you’re not careful,” he says, almost growling. “Let’s get back on track with your present.” Bucky reaches down and into the box, pulls out a little set of nipple clamps in a jewelry box. They’re silver and they tighten on the nipple with a screw, have a loop so he can add weights or connect the chain as he sees fit.

He sucks on Steve’s nipple, gently uses his teeth and gets it dark red and flushed before putting on the clamp. He repeats the process, admires them both when they’re on, framed by the triangles of straps pretending to be a bra. He attaches the chain and tugs gently. Steve grinds down on him in response.

“The chain clips to the plug if we want it to. It also clips to a cock ring and a cock cage, both of which I have for you but you won’t be using tonight. Tonight you’re going to prove yourself to me. I’m going to wear you out and it’s okay to ask me to stop.”

“I won’t,” he says, firmly. “Not tonight.”

Bucky reaches into the box and pulls out one last little toy. A vibrator that will fit into his panties just behind his balls.

“Lift up so I can put this where I want it.”

“Daddy, I’ll come.”

“I know. I want you to come from the vibrator.”

“No, I… I don’t know if I can lift up. The plug… it’s a lot.”

“I thought you hated it?”

Steve blushes bright red. “I do. It’s torture and you should be ashamed of yourself. Also, it doesn’t just feel weird, it’s almost like I have to go to the bathroom, but not.” Steve winces. “That just sounds bad. Trying to keep it in is…intense and yeah, I fucking hate it, but I might come.” He looks annoyed.

“Huh. Okay. Well, let’s protect the panties for a bit longer then,” he says, and he pulls the material low, hooking it under Steve’s balls, and then urging him up. Steve is glaring at him even as he obeys. He raises up and Bucky brushes his knuckles back between his legs, feels his rim, can feel Steve clenching and struggling with the weight of the plug.

His breathing picks up, his hands are hard on Bucky’s shoulders and he reaches down, touching Bucky’s cock. His hips rock forward, little thrusts, fucking the air, making the plug move inside him. Steve pouts as he glances down. His ‘my body is a traitor look’.

“I love it. Give in, good girl. Let me see you like this. Fuck, Steve,” he says, and jerks off, has to, as Steve struggles and then suddenly comes in sharp pulses, all over Bucky’s stomach. He whimpers and his hand goes back.

“Out? Daddy? Cock?”

“Yeah. Good girl. Get on my cock,” he urges and let’s go of his cock with a groan. Steve pulls the plug out, gasping loudly in relief. Bucky urges him onto his cock, not sure if Steve needs a minute, but not all that interested in waiting.

“Bucky,” he says, almost a growl, hands pressed into Bucky’s shoulders like he wants him to wait, get used to having the thing out and come down from being so sensitive after his orgasm.

“Uh uh. Make daddy come. Right now. Right now, Stevie. Daddy’s too hard. Look what you did to me. Put those tits in my hands,” he says, and Steve rides him, sinks down and grinds, then lifts and lowers. He arches his back and Bucky squeezes each pec, snaps the material of his bra and tugs on the chains until he comes, flooding Steve with it. Steve is hard still. Bucky pulls out of him, gets the vibrator where he wants it, clicks it on and kisses Steve lazily.

Steve tenses and tries to grab Bucky’s cock back, wanting it in his hole. “Fuck. I hate vibrators,” Steve growls and then he’s suddering, hand working himself through the material as he comes.

“Off. Off! Please, daddy. _Please_?”

“No. Have a rest on daddy while you work through it. You be my good girl and I’ll give you my fingers.”

Steve whimpers and gingerly rests on him. He hisses in pain as the clamps get compressed and Bucky tugs gently on the dangling chain, idly toying with him. Steve is still hard and the way he trembles, the kisses he starts frantically placing on Bucky’s neck let him know that Steve is past the point of pain and getting worked up to another orgasm.

“Daddy. Don’t want it, daddy.”

“I want it.”

Steve huffs. “This is torture. You should be ashamed of yourself,Bucky Barnes. _Oh_. I hate vibrators. _Shit._ It’s awful. Fuck. Jesus, fuck me at least. God, I need to come.”

Bucky gives in, has Steve sink down on his cock again and then stays still. “Is that better, baby?”

Steve nods, clutches him tight, passage clenching on him as his body endures the vibrator.

“Tell me,” he finally says, when Steve stays silent.

“I still fucking hate it.” He pauses. “But, now that you’re in me, it’s better. Do you feel it?”

“I do.” The vibration is dulled considerably but it’s still pleasant, has his cock twitching in Steve, urging him to fuck him and come again. Steve rocks, tries to rub his prostate against Bucky’s cock.

“Daddy. Will you turn it off after this one? Please? Pretty please?”

Bucky kisses him instead of answering. It doesn’t take long before Steve goes quiet and shakes. Steve holds his breath and it goes on and on and then suddenly Steve gasps and comes, whining as he shudders. He lifts up, puts a hand between his balls and the vibrator while he catches his breath.

“Daddy?”

“Pretty girl,” he says, and takes off the nipple clamp. Steve bites his lip as Bucky plays with the painful nipple. He releases the other one too and works him some more. “Okay, take the hand away. I think you can come one more time, don’t you?”

“Is that what you want?”

“It is. It’s exactly what I want. Are you going to give it to me? Take care of me?”

Steve smiles at him, radiant, like he’s trying to memorize his face.

“What?” Bucky asks, slightly embarrassed.

“Nothing. I just… yeah, I _am_ going to take care of you. You said it like you know it. Expect it. Can… rely on it. I like that.”

He has Steve ride him to another orgasm, kisses Steve’s chest and worries his nipples while Steve leaks and flinches, his cock flushed and rock hard against his stomach, the vibrator almost instantly demanding all of Steve’s attention, making his thrusts shorter as he tries not to press his balls directly against it. Bucky grabs his hips and holds him down, grinding up into him, letting the vibrator buzz harshly against Steve’s sensitive balls. Bucky turns it off the moment Steve comes and Steve rides him lazily until Bucky comes in him, then kisses him for a solid twenty minutes, shuddering every now and again and clenching on his softening cock. 

Steve looks betrayed when Bucky puts the plug back in him. Bucky shrugs. “It’s a plug. What did you think we’d do with it?”

“I think it’s going to go missing.”

Bucky smirks at him. “I’ll just buy you another one if it does. A little heavier. God, you’re beautiful. Kiss daddy and I’ll rock the plug until you come.”

Steve’s expression is momentarily shocked. “I’ve just come… I don’t know how many thatwas. It’s going to take awhile.”

“I have no plans.” He kisses Steve’s parted lips. “Just you. You are always my priority. The love of my life. My good girl. I just want you here, pretty on my lap, sweet to me and making me feel so good. That’s all you do, Steve. Make me feel good. Give me what I need. I don’t deserve you, baby. I _only_ want you.”

“Okay,” Steve says, blinking rapidly.

“What do you want? I’ll marry you. I’ll go back with you. Whatever you want. _Anything_ so you feel secure.”

“It’s okay. I believe you,” Steve whispers, wiping the tears from Bucky’s cheeks. “I believe you, daddy.”

And, miracle of miracles, he does.

***

“You know what sounds even worse than having to meet jack-ass me?” Steve asks him, after they’ve showered and had food.

“What?”

“Doing it while our yahoo friends watch and eat popcorn.”

“Good point. Let me ask Sam where they are. See if we can get in touch with Steve.”

“I want to tell you to talk to Bucky and not Steve but I realize that’s unreasonable and he probably doesn’t know how to use a phone.”

Steve sniffs a little, does the head tilt.

“What, are you competitive with the other poor bastard from your timeline? That’s _me.”_ Bucky rolls his eyes at him and checks his phone. He’s got a message from Steve.

‘Took a while for my phone to charge. Hey. Probably not a great idea to meet for breakfast in the am with everyone else. Are you free?’

“Why doesn’t he ask if _we’re_ free. Does he know I’m here?” Steve frowns at him. “Why are you smiling?”

“I was just imagining what Steve would think if I pulled you over my lap and spanked you for being a brat.”

Steve crosses his arms, his jaw is very hard. “Just fucking call him already,” he growls, and stalks away.

Bucky doesn’t know what that reaction means, not for sure, but when Steve goes on emotional lockdown and walks away it has a good possibility of it being something he wants but doesn’t want to say he wants. Two weeks ago he’d walked out of a cakeshop when he discovered Oreo cheesecake. One second he’s there, looking at the options and then he just left.

Obviously, Bucky had bought the cheesecake. And he’d gotten blown within an inch of his life after said cheesecake, so it all worked out. He makes a mental note to investigate spanking Steve while he’s wearing a plug. He dials Steve’s number and out of the corner of his eye can see that Steve is in the corner of the room, arms crossed defensively.

“Hello?” Steve says.

“Hey. Speakerphone?”

“Good idea.” Steve comes closer, reaches out and takes Bucky’s hand. He mouths a thank you and then Steve says hello again, but now they can both hear.

“Am I there?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah. Laying down. Time travel is hard work. How are you doing, Buck?”

The grip on his hand tightens. “Good, Steve. How are you?”

“Really good,” he says, and the happiness there is enough to make Bucky’s throat clog with tears.

“I’m really glad to hear it.” Steve hugs him.

“We’re not staying. Just to get that out of the way. He’s pretty good most of the time but he has episodes where he panics and doesn’t remember and he winds up at our old place or at your parents.”

“And?” Bucky asks, because he can see all kinds of ways that can go wrong.

“And, one night, Becca found him. There was a thunderstorm and he walked out and when I caught up with him he was soaked and on your back patio with Becca and a mug of hot chocolate. Um, so yeah. It’s good. We’re there a lot now. I think he needs it and I need it, too.”

Steve visibly relaxes against him.

“I’m glad.” And he isn’t just a little glad, he’s actually crying with relief. Steve takes the phone from him because Bucky can’t speak. He goes to the bathroom for tissue. His family is okay. His family doesn’t have to grieve for him. He’s there. Steve gets to go back and see his second family, watch over them… that’s, that’s everything.

Steve comes in a minute later. Sets the phone down. The conversation apparently ended. He pulls Bucky into his arms. Bucky definitely has a breakdown. Full on sobbing, winds up getting tucked into bed and held until he wakes up sweating at 2am from the oven of Steve Rogers’ embrace.

Steve wakes up when he does. He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. It’s very, very dark.

“When the arm was gone, I felt so light. And when Shuri put on another one, I expected it to be heavy and it isn’t. It’s a part of me.” He clears his throat. “When he told me that they’re with my parents and sisters and taking care of them… it was like the arm was gone again. Just this thing I hadn’t realized was so heavy was gone. I’m so fucking glad.”

Steve nods into his shoulder. He can feel that his eyes are damp, too. “Yeah, me too. I miss them, I’d go back if you wanted, but this is our home now. Our new family.”

Bucky kisses him on the forehead, pulls him closer so his head is on Bucky’s chest. “What did you say to Steve after I left to have a mental breakdown?” 

“I told him to get a haircut because it makes him look like an idiot.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, tries to look down at him. “Are you serious?”

“What else was I supposed to say? Clearly he’s got his Bucky and is happy, and I know I have you, so I don’t have to be all ‘hands off my man.’ I don’t actually want to talk to myself, and I still think he’s a dick. I thought I did pretty good.”

“The hands off my man sex was something else,” he says, to lighten the mood. 

“I threw out the plug.”

“Did you?”

“Maybe. No. I ordered a heavier one.” Steve sighs, fingers rubbing over Bucky’s chest until he pulls him tighter. “Go to Wakanda, get them the fuck out of here and then when you come home it’ll be a present.”

“Wait. What?”

“The plug or Wakanda?”

“Steve.” There’s a time for snark and this isn’t it.

“I don’t want to go to Wakanda.” There’s a long pause. “I don’t want to meet myself. I don’t want to meet other you. I don’t see how that’s a positive experience for me. I trust that you love me and you’ll come home for me. So, I thought, maybe you go, with Sam and get Bucky his arm and his brain scans or whatever and I’ll stay here with Wanda and Scott and see you when you get back. Scott has a really big list of movies and video games he’s been trying to show me for months.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, because there isn’t much else to say. “If you change your mind you can come along? Even after I go, if you decided you needed to be there, just show up.”

Steve lifts his head, meets Bucky’s gaze. “Does it make me a coward?”

“I don’t know if you can even spell coward. No. Not to me. I guess… are you sure you don’t want to see him? Bucky? Sweetheart, I don’t mind.”

He does mind. But, he’s not going to deny Steve the chance to see his Bucky. Doesn’t he have to give him the option?

Steve’s voice is very quiet. It’s clear he’s trying not to cry. “I love you. You’re it for me. I don’t know if it makes me a bad person, but… no. I’m where I want to be, and who I want to be with, and he’s apparently happy with his highlighted, grumpy Steve so, no. I talked to Wanda and that’s kind of what made the decision for me. She didn’t want to to go to Wakanda, either. She’s hurt that he left. And, you know, she’s lost so much and I think her heart is a little closed off and risk averse. He had his chance and he left her. She said she’d stick by my side and it was…. Anyway, I thought, fuck it, I don’t want to go, either.” 

“And then you bought the plug.”

“For _you_,” he says, emphatically. “I, _obviously_, thinks it’s awful and want nothing to do with it. But, I’m determined to keep my man happy.”

Bucky kisses him.

“It arrives in three days,” Steve says, a few minutes later. “It may be slightly wider.”

“You’re insane. Sounds like I better go quickly then.”

***

The next day at 11 am, Bucky has his bag packed and waiting by the door. Wanda’s arrived with a few bags of groceries, Scott has a giant duffel bag filled with god only knows what and Bucky has set up a delivery of 2 Oreo cheesecakes for that afternoon.

They all give him a hug goodbye and Steve walks him to the elevator. He seems okay. “I’ll miss you,” Bucky says.

“Good. I know. I’ll miss you, too.” Steve clears his throat. “You know you mentioned doing anything to make me feel secure? The marriage thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I want that.”

“Good. I want that, too. Can I buy you a ring? Do it proper, for my best girl?”

“Oh.” Steve blushes prettily and lets Bucky pull him close. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

“I’ll make some plans.” They kiss and separate and Bucky is about to step into the elevator when Steve grabs his arm.

“This might sound weird, but don’t ask Steve what you should do for the proposal. I don’t know if it would be the same, but just… don’t.” Steve looks embarrassed to have brought it up.

“Are you kidding? Have you seen his hair? He has no idea. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Steve chuckles, a little forced but he tries. “Okay. Great. I love you. Have fun storming the castle.”

“Princess Bride?”

“_Old_ Steve wouldn’t know,” he says, with a chin jut.

“No, I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

***

Sam is waiting for him at the airport. “Where are they?”

“They went on ahead. There was a delegate plane going back anyway so they left early this morning. Shuri wants to freeze him for a day or two and that wasn’t something Steve reacted well to. He wanted to go and have it be calm. I told him I’d come with you, give them some space. I think Steve needed the time alone. You know, he’s a loner?”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, he can be.”

Sam rubs at his chin, thinking. “But, it’s different than our Steve. He’s like… still. He’s got this weight around him. I think all that time looking for you and then losing everyone, he just kind of went into himself. He’s practically aloof. And maybe it’s just because our Steve is so outgoing and downright happy in comparison, but… anyway, I don’t know, but I wanted to tell you, maybe warn you, he’s pretty protective of Bucky. He smiles around him, like he hung the fucking moon.”

“As well it should be,” he tries to joke. It falls flat. He knows how much his absence hurt Steve. Is that something Other Bucky is trying to erase? “Did you talk to him? Uh, me.”

“Yeah. He’s funny. Weirdly enough, he’s happier than you are. Hotter, too.”

“Thanks.”

Sam elbows him. “You’re no slouch but he’s like… we came out of the hotel and people practically dropped in front of him. He’s got mad game. He flirts without knowing he’s flirting. Hisrejections sound like flirting.”

“Rejections? Where didyou go?”

“We went to the damned diner! The waitress hits on him, the hostess hits on him. It’s unbelievable.”

“Huh. What’d Steve think?”

“He loved it. Seeing you being adored and sweethearting everyone was like, he relaxed. And then Bucky called it a night and actually…. I don’t even want to say it.”

“Well, now you have to.”

“Hot you with game _dragged_ him into an alley and I don’t know what happened, because I left for my own sanity, but I was half afraid I’d have to bail them out of jail.” 

“Nah. He’s Captain America, no one wants to arrest Captain America for giving a blow job in a dirty alley.”

Sam’s eyes are wide.

“I mean, I’m guessing.” He’s not guessing.

***

Sam sleeps for most of the flight and watches a James Bond movie. Bucky reads a book and writes Steve a letter. He likes writing letters and Steve likes getting them. He also watches James Bond.

It’s an odd and surreal experience to go back down to where he was frozen and see Steve sitting there staring at his own frozen face. His eyes are red rimmed.

“Hey,” he says, and Steve jolts in surprise.

He nods and lets Bucky hug him. He sobs and then pulls back, actually steps back, like he doesn’t want to be close to him. “I cannot tell you how much I don’t want to be here with him in there. You know I have nightmares about this? You choosing that and now I’m here again…. It’s fucking awful.”

“How long will it be?” Bucky asks, and looks at his arm. It’s tingling. It’s been months since that happened.

Steve pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and blows his nose. “Um, two days? Not all that long. He’s got gaps in his memory, but it’s injury and trauma, they didn’t get too far on the programming, just the erasing. And he’s getting a new arm. It’s going to look real. Easier to have back then.”

“Great. That’s great. And you’re happy?”

“I am really happy,” he says, and the sincerity of it is also a relief.

“That’s great.” It’s awkward.

“You look better,” Steve says, and he kind of blushes. “You’ve got a hickey on your neck, there.”

“Oh, I know. I’m lucky I didn’t walk out of there with a tattoo that said ‘Property of Steve Rogers.’”

Steve is staring at him. “Happiness looks good on you, Buck.”

“Same.” More awkward. “How’s my family? What did you tell them?”

“Nothing. Just that Bucky was a POW and we were going to go away for him to get the arm. Stark Tech.”

“Jesus.”

“I know. Becca met the guy she marries. He’s a good guy.”

“What are you doing about Hydra?” 

He shrugs. “It’s an alternate timeline. I told Peggy what I know and I’m leaving it at that. We’re spending time in DC. Trying to sort out the VA and get programs for the vets. There isn’t even therapy yet, not really.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Steve says. But, once again, he doesn’t touch Bucky. Not even a pat on the shoulder. It’s odd. There’s definitely a wall there. Resentfulness, maybe. Grief, most likely.

“I need to give you this.” Steve pulls out a folder. “When I saved him, we figured out they’d done some experiments on him. Genetic. They took a lot of DNA. There were plans for a cloning program. Even… breeding. I don’t know where that went in this timeline. I destroyed it there, but I thought you should know.”

Bucky takes the folder. His hand is steady. That’s a relief. “I have no memory of that.”

“Bucky I… I hate that I’m going to ask you this. You just came all this way, but… I think I need you to go. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you. But seeing you… I don’t _want_ to be here. I just want to be with my Bucky and go home to Brooklyn and, Jesus, this whole place if fucking haunted for me.” His voice breaks. He walks over to Bucky’s cryo unit and puts his hand on it. That’s where his comfort is.

How many days did Steve do this for him? Stand there and weep and feel helpless while the love of his life slept on, unknowingly? How much worse was it that he actually chose to be there instead of with Steve? God, his arm is almost totally numb.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll go. You know he loves you more than anything, right?”

“Yeah, I do. Goodbye, Buck.”

***

Shuri examines him, gives him some medication for anxiety and he lays down for an hour and watches her work, gets himself together enough to leave. He hadn’t realized how much better he was doing until this… relapse. Steve will be relieved.

He has lunch with T’Challa, grabs a quick coffee with Shuri, who doesn’t want to spare a minute because she’s working on Bucky’s deprogramming, and they promise to get together in a month or two. Bringing Steve for a visit sounds like a great idea. And then he’s on his way back home.

He calls Steve from the plane. Sam decided to stay which was good. Steve needs the support. His Steve answers on the first ring.

“How is it going?”

“I’m on my way home.”

Silence.

“Funnily enough, seeing me when he’s looking at another me in cryo, which is kind of the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, wasn’t something he really wanted to draw out. We said hello, said goodbye, and I’m coming home.”

“How do you feel about that?” Steve asks, voice neutral.

“I don’t know. Like an asshole?” It’s an understatement. A vast understatement.

“Thank you for the cheesecake.”

“_Thank you for thecheesecake?” _He asks, incredulous. “What kind of response is that?”

“I don’t know. What am I supposed to say? Like, I feel sorry for the bastard now and I didn’t really want to do that. I’m glad you’re coming home and I _also_ appreciate the cheesecake.” 

“Will there be any left?”

“That’s a firm negative.”

***

The reunion is good. The reunion sex with the plug and spanking Steve while he’s wearing the plug is potentially the hottest thing they’ve ever done. Steve is practically catatonic afterwards, but in a good way.

Sam comes back three days later and reports that Bucky came out of cryo, Steve wept happily and Shuri complained about having to get her laboratory cleaned. Sam thought she was joking but didn’t have the guts to ask. The arm looked great, they went back to the past and said Bucky wanted him to be given a message.

“I would like it known that I will convey this message and then I never want to hear about it again. If I’d known what the message was, I would have told him to write it down, but other you is such an asshole I think he thought it was kind of funny.”

“Out with it. The suspense is killing me,” Bucky says.

Sam looks at Steve, who is leaning against the counter and drinking a cup of coffee, interest piqued. Sam looks away, practically cringing. “Lingerie. That’s it. It was one word.”

Steve starts coughing. Bucky shrugs. “I could have told him that.”

Sam leaves very, very quickly.

***

It’s a week later that Steve stumbles out of the bedroom and collapses in Bucky’s lap while he sits at his desk. “Why aren’t you in bed?” he mumbles.

“I was given a folder by Steve. About a project that was apparently started around the time he rescued me. The serum couldn’t be replicated and they were desperate to try.”

Steve pulls back to look at him, looks at the computer screen and the open file. He’s suddenly wide awake.

“This might be a weird idea, but I’ve been going through all the files Nat dumped on the internet and have done a little digging of my own and I think there’s a bunker we need to… destroy.”

“You don’t sound certain.”

“I kind of wonder if it’s gone already. But, I don’t know. And I don’t know if I should have you go with me or not.”

“Why wouldn’t I go with you?”

Bucky’s quiet for a long minute, rubs his hand up and down Steve’s back, more to soothe himself than Steve. “You haven’t seen a lot of what they did to me. I wasn’t treated like a person, Steve. I don’t know if that’s something you need to be involved with. I thought… I figured I could go. It’s not like it’s dangerous. It’s likely been abandoned for years.”

“Just you?”

He shrugs. “It isn’t anyone else’s problem,” he says, almost absently.

Steve sighs and grabs him by the chin. “James Buchanan Barnes you’re an idiot. This is your family and if you think they’re going to let you go, on your own, to a horrible place where horrible things were done to you and not protect you, then you’re wrong. I’ll make the call. In the morning. Do you want to talk about it more or come back to bed?”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t even know what to expect. I don’t remember it at all.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out when we get there,” he says, confidently. His hand clenches and he sits up a little straighter, like he’s already thinking of getting suited up and the shield in his hand.

“Stevie?”

“What?” he asks, blinking, dragging hisattention back to the moment instead of tomorrow and the mission.

“Thank you. I love you.”

“How much?” he asks, eyeing Bucky’s mouth.

“Enough to shave and then lick your pussy until you come.”

He touches Bucky’s face, rubbing against the grain of his beard. “You don’t have to shave,” he protests, weakly. He shifts on Bucky’s lap.

“Aren’t you sore?”

Steve blushes. “A little.”

“Let me be sweet to all that tender skin. Come on honey, my mouth is watering just from thinking about it. Is my good girl all cleaned out?”

“Um, yes. But, I could shower while you shave? I want to.” He squeezes Steve’s pec in his hand and flicks his nipple.

“I’m just going to get you dirty again. Fill up that pretty hole with come.”

“Yeah, okay, hotshot. You’re gonna breed me good. I know. Come on,” he says, hauling Bucky to his feet and dragging him to the bathroom. He turns on the water and stares at Bucky. Steve takes off his underwear. He’s hard already.

“Impatient?”

“Yeah. Let’s go, it’s like 3 am and we have a mission tomorrow.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Bucky says, smacking him on the ass as he gets into the shower.

“We _don’t_ have time for _that,_” Steve says, as the door closes, his voice echoing off the tile.

They do have time for it.

***

As soon as they’re on the jet, Steve makes a beeline for Sam. “Well? What is it?”

“You know, we say hello. And we ask nicely. If my mother saw you now, she wouldn’t bake anything for you.”

“But she did. And I want it. What is it? Where is it?”

Sam grumbles and goes to his bag, opens it up and pulls out a giant ziplock bag of cookies. “Lemon crinkle. You’re welcome.”

Red mist drifts towards the cookies but Steve sees it and moves back. “That’s dangerous on a plane. Who knows what could happen?” he opens the bag and eats an entire cookie in one bite.

“If his mother saw you do _that_, she wouldn’t bake you cookies,” Bucky says. Everyone gets a cookie. Everyone is happy.

Bucky is very, very nervous. He cleans a gun. There are always guns to clean on the jet. It’s meditative. Scott likes to watch him. Bucky spent some time teaching him how to do it and now Scott sits with him and also cleans guns. He gets a sneer on his lip and talks with a bit of a mobster accent, getting into character he says, and then he gets that ridiculously happy smile on his face and Bucky has to let it go. He’s just so fucking happy.

“You like being a father?” Bucky asks. It’s a stupid question. Of course he does.

“Best thing in my entire life. Would have been nice not to miss five years but there it is. What can you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Exactly. Appreciate everyday, befriend an ant, and carry on.”

“That’s catchy.”

“Right? It’s like a motto for my life or something.”

“So… and this is a dark question. You think you could kill a baby?”

“Is this the Thanos thing? We definitely should have killed Thanos as a baby and saved the hassle. Like, we killed him anyway, it’s just he got the chance to murder millions more people because we waited.”

“So you’re of the kill Hitler before he acts camp?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But, you know, I kill everyone.”

“What’s this happy conversation?” Steve asks, as he comes into the armory.

“Cleaning guns and killing people. Living the dream,” Scott says.

He can feel the weight of Steve’s gaze. “Scott, there’s one cookie left. It’s got your name on it,” Steve says.

Scott leaves.

Bucky sighs and puts down the gun. Looks up at his giant, beautiful boyfriend. “Can I help you?”

“What will we find at this base? Do you think?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you really think there are fetuses?”

“You read the file.”

“Of _course_ I read the fucking file.”

“Fuck. I have no idea. But, if there are, I don’t know what to do with that information.” Steve leans against the table, practically scowling at him. 

“If there are fetuses, that is not a decision that should be made today. That is… I don’t know. But, Shuri has offered us a place to store whatever we find until a decision is made.”

“What if I can’t make a decision? Or, don’t want to.”

“Then don’t. We are investigating, liberating whatever information or weapons we find and then destroying the base. That’s all. Buck. That’s all. If there are fetuses that have been frozen for decades, it’s better under our control then Hydra’s. That’s obvious. The status quo of staying frozen is an option.”

“There may be nothing there.”

“And there may be nothing there,” Steve says, pressing his forehead to Bucky’s. “Did you really think I wouldn’t read the file?”

“No, I left it out for you. I just… didn’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

“I can live with that.”

“Did you read the emails?”

“From Zola? About the package he couldn’t get into the country? I did.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“It’s going to be okay, Buck. We’re almost there. Suit up, babe,” he says, and squeezes Bucky hard, high on his collarbone, a promise echoing between them. 

Bucky gets ready, a sense of dread going through him as they land in the god damned Ukraine. The base is abandoned. Which is good. There is still power and generators running. Bucky is filled with dread although he’d swear he’s never been here before in his life. There are refrigerators filled with genetic material but nothing that’s alive and therefore it’s easy to let that be destroyed.

There are five cryo tubes along the back wall and one of them has a box next to it that’s humming. It isn’t until they’re peering at it that they realize it’s another cryo tube. “Call Shuri,” Bucky says.

Steve watches him worriedly on the flight. Shuri herself showed up with a team of engineers to get the tube on the plane, hooked up to a generator for transport. Everyone is solemn.

“Wanda, did you get anything?” Steve asks.

“The baby is alive. Sleeping. But, there was just… blankness.”

“Is it healthy?” Steve asks, his voice almost too gruff and emotionless.

_Fuck._ Bucky closes his eyes, puts his head back against the wall.

“That baby couldn’t be more than a few weeks old,” Scott says.

“Old enough to figure out it didn’t have the serum?” Sam asks.

“Why keep it then? Hydra isn’t sympathetic or known for liking children,” Scott asks.

“Why did Zola want to keep it there? Want to get it into America?” Bucky asks. No one answers.

“God. Who do you think the parents are?” Scott asks. That gets even more silence.

Steve’s leg presses harder into his.

***

“I love Wakanda,” Scott says, as they get out of the plane. He shades his eyes against the sun and takes in a deep breath. “I need a tan.”

“I’ll airbnb you a hut for cheap if you’re interested,” Bucky says, trying hard to distract himself. Steve holds his hand and they follow Shuri to her lab.

She turns on them. “What do you think you’re doing? Go find your room and change. Go eat food. Go take a nap or something. I need time.” She gives them both a look that’s horribly sympathetic. “I will let you know as soon as I have anything.”

Bucky’s voice is quiet. “Shuri. I want the DNA test first.”

Steve hugs him and they go to their room. “Do you want to have sad sex in the shower?” Steve asks, in the elevator. Bucky laughs weakly.

“Who’s going to be sad about it?”

“Not sure yet. Depends how distracted you are.”

“I want to go to the lab.”

“I know. I was teasing. We should shower though. And eat and then we’ll go straight down. Half an hour.”

They actually have an apartment and there’s a note saying food is in the fridge. They both have orange juice and Steve goes to take a shower. Bucky follows him in. “You don’t have to,” he whispers, even as he’s turning towards him.

“Yes, I do.”

“What if… what if it’s yours? What if it isn’t? What if….” He stops talking, puts his head under the water.

Bucky holds him in his arms. “If the child can be saved and we can’t find who it should belong to, then yes, we can keep it if you want to. You would be an amazing father, Steve.”

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I shouldn’t make plans when we don’t know. But… that baby looks like you. I’ve seen your baby pictures. I’ve seen your sisters baby pictures.”

Bucky doesn’t know if it’s best to agree or disagree so he says nothing. He washes Steve with soap and even though neither of them is particularly interested in it going further, they don’t stop touching. “If nothing else, we have each other. And, we need a family. To be parents. If this isn’t right, we start trying to figure something else out, okay?”

Steve nods. He ducks back under the water.

They don’t eat. Which is saying something. They get dressed and leave the apartment, back in Shuri’s office in under twenty minutes.

“You might want to sit down.”

“Just tell us,” Steve says. Bucky leads Steve to a chair and forces them both to sit down.

Steve scowls at him.

“I’m not the one with a history of fainting.”

“I haven’t fainted since 1943. Fine. Tell us.”

“I did a DNA match and that child is definitely yours.”

“Can we find out who the mother is?” Steve asks. “Is that even possible?”

“The cryogenic chamber is not as old as one might have expected. It’s actually from the mid-80’s. The mother’s identity is known because her DNA is in our database. Natasha Romanov.”

“Well, Steve. I guess you get to meet her after all,” Bucky says, and bursts into tears.

***

People wandered down to Shuri’s lab over the next hour and everyone burst into tears.Scott recovered fairly quickly and started making a list of everything that would be needed, but then he called she said she was going to take care of everything they’d need for when they got back with the baby.

Scott said there was even a hand me down crib which made Wanda burst into tears. Again.

“We should invest in Kleenex,” Steve says, at 4am and approximately 36 hours later. They’re laying in bed, not sleeping. “We haven’t talked about a name,” Steve says.

Bucky rolls towards him. “Is that a burden for her? Named after her lost mother? How about Sarah Rogers Barnes?”

“I didn’t invest in Kleenex yet. Really?”

“Yeah. I think your ma would have liked that a lot.”

“I expect she would have. She always knew, you know. How I felt. She just wanted me to be careful. Is Rogers her middle name?”

“Oh. I’m glad. Um, I thought you might want to be included.”

“Well, I guess I thought I’d be changing my name. If you ever get around to it that is.”

“You’d be Steve Barnes?”

“Maybe Rogers Barnes? Just to keep it complicated.”

“Then we can invest in ink.”

“Comedian. So, Sarah Natasha Barnes?”

“Or Rogers Barnes. Let’s decide tomorrow.”

“I like the idea of her having a little Wakandan passport,” Steve says.

“I don’t think the passport itself is smaller.”

Steve punches him in the arm. “You know what I meant.”

“Ow.”

“I’ll fix it,” Steve breathes, and is instantly on him, kissing down his body.

It definitely gets them both back to sleep.

***

The cryo unit opens and the gang is all there holding various items of usefulness. Bucky has a blanket. Steve has a bottle. Scott brought a diaper which is, admittedly, a very good idea, and Sam and Wanda are kind of holding onto each other, but Sam also has a camera.

The latch unlocks when the defrost is complete. They open the door and peer inside. Her cheeks are pink and plump, her brow scrunches as she wakes. There’s a sound, a hint of a yell and Bucky reaches down to pick her up carefully, supporting her head. Her eyes open and they are very blue.

Bucky might be crying. The pictures later indicate that yes, he was. They get the diaper on her and Bucky gives her a little kiss and hands her to Steve. He just has to. Steve holds her close and the baby instantly settles down and Bucky congratulates himself on not commenting that anyone would settle down if they were cuddled up into that rack. Much oohing and baby kissing and cuddling occurs.

The baby eats. Scott whips out a burp cloth from his back pocket and declares himself the Baby Expert. The baby throws up all over Scott. Sam gets it on camera.

Sarah Barnes doesn’t sleep all that well at first. But, her daddies don’t need more than three hours a night anyway so it all works out.

Pepper has very good taste in baby furnishings and when they get back to their house in Brooklyn its to find the guest room has been repainted a silvery purple that contrasts nicely with all the white furniture.

They are both too big for the rocking chair and Uncle Sam (as he calls himself) gets them a leather lazy boy as a present. It’s comfortable. It does get slept in frequently.

There is no jogging stroller on earth that can endure the wear and tear they put on it. A new one is purchased every few months. At six months, they leave the baby with Scott and Wanda for a night and Bucky finally proposes.

They wait until the baby is a year old so she can sit at the wedding table with them and stick her fingers into a piece of cake. She smears it all over Bucky’s jacket and then Steve’s face when he tries to help. It’s adorable.

By six years of age it’s clear she has no special abilities but she has kicked a boy in the shin for saying Ant-Man was lame. Her fathers listen sympathetically to the teacher and promise to address the behavior at home.

Sarah has golden brown hair and what Steve calls her assassin expression which means she thinks whoever is telling her to not to do something is an idiot. She’s wearing it now. Steve looks at her, attempting to look stern. It’s ridiculous. And adorable.

“Sarah, what exactly did you say?” Steve asks.

“He said Ant-Man could grow large and kick Captain America in the butt.”

“Those are strong words,” Bucky manages, with a straight face. “And what did you say?”

She smiles at him and it’s like the god damned sun rising it makes him so happy. “Nothing, daddy. I just kicked him.”

Bucky picks her up and gives her a squeeze as they leave the classroom. “There are definitely times where it’s appropriate to hit boys, but that isn’t one of them.”

“And it isn’t true,” Steve says.

“Yeah, that too,” Bucky agrees, with an eye roll.

“When _can_ I kick a boy?”

Bucky stops and looks at Steve. This is one of those parenting moments wherethey need to be on the same side, making decisions they both agree on. “Is kicking the way to go?” Steve asks.

“I think it’s really her right hook. I mean, violence is obviously not something to support, but if she is going to _defend _herself from boys—”

“It’s going to be _so many boys_. I dreamed about it last night. Terrifying,” Steve says.

“I’ve had that dream. Boxing lessons? We can get her little gloves.”

“Oh my god. You’re going to teach her how to box? I think I’m a little teary-eyed.”

“Jesus, Rogers. Hold it together for crying out loud.”

“So _when_ do I get to defend myself, daddy?” she asks, with those bright eyes that always remind him of Nat.

Steve looks at him again. “I’m scared,” he whispers.

“Yeah. We’re in for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this is a bit rougher than usual. I wrote at least half of it over a 24 hour period where I cried more than once (Still? how lame is that to cry at my own fucking story, especially when i've written a million others already??) and found the whole thing so emotional that I wanted to just get it out there and not have to get all weepy again by editing it again a few days later which is what I usually do. 
> 
> I would love to know if you liked the end of this or not. I kind of figured i'd go all in on making it as fluffy as possible (after all the rough sex) and confess i kept thinking 'fuck you disney' in the back of my mind as I went along. 
> 
> i also wasn't sure if i should tag for something. i used the word fetuses a lot but IDK what i would even mark it as. like, nothing happened to babies.


End file.
